


Premonitions

by GraySkies22



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Prophetic Dreams, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-27
Updated: 2017-08-21
Packaged: 2018-11-05 12:25:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 32,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11013393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GraySkies22/pseuds/GraySkies22
Summary: Victor runs across a dark-haired mess one day, one unclad in shoes and disheveled beyond belief, but he's still the most beautiful creature (besides Makkachin, of course) that he's ever laid eyes on. And when the stranger ominously warns him that he shouldn't practice one day, Victor has to decide between his trust in his sport or his newfound trust in the mysterious stranger.Yuuri takes it upon himself to help as many people as possible, even if it means running himself ragged in the meantime. He'll be damned if he lets this particular dream involving a silver-haired skater come to fruition.Alternate universe where Yuuri's dreams come true, but his dreams are always nightmares.





	1. Mid-street Musings

**Author's Note:**

> Definitely un-beta'd.  
> Definitely appreciate comments.  
> Tumblr: grayskies04

"Girls, no! It's just a ball, leave it. No, don't-"

Yuuri bolted upright in his bed, panting. Quickly, he grabbed his phone from his bedside table and sprinted out of his bedroom, down the hall and out of his house. 

The anxious sense of urgency gnawing at his stomach refused to subside if he didn't do this, he knew. 

He slowed to a walk as he arrived at his destination: a playground that sat sleepily in the bright moonlight. Glancing around as he began counting his breaths, Yuuri could see that, apart from himself, no one else was to be found. Not the triplets, not the ball they were chasing, nor the white car that had come barreling down the street he now stood in the middle of, failing to notice the girls as they stepped out after the ball-

Yuuri cleared his sticky throat and glanced down at his phone. 4:27 am. Slowly he dialed Yuuko's number, knowing that if he didn't at least warn her, the knot in his stomach would never untwist itself. As the phone continued to ring, he ran a hand through his disheveled hair and wiped the sweat from his forehead. It was a chilly morning, but he was burning. It was always like this. He couldn't remember the last time he had ever slept through the night, or if he ever had. 

"Hello?" a sleepy voice answered after a couple of rings.

"Yuuri, is everything alright?"

He nodded, but upon realizing she couldn't see him, he mumbled, "yes." He shifted his weight from one foot to the other and realized that in his haste, he had forgotten to put on his shoes and glasses. He had attributed his hazy surroundings to his current state of mind, not the lack of spectacles upon his nose. "I'm sorry, I-I did not mean to wake you."

He paused and bit his bottom lip. He knew he really wasn't supposed to do this but-

"Tomorrow, er, today now. After you pick the triplets up from school. Could you, could you not take them to the playground? Please?" Yuuri felt small. There was no reason for Yuuko to actually sit there and listen to him. 

Without missing a beat, she responded, more alert now: "Another one of your bad feelings?"

He hummed an agreement.

"Okay, I'll take them home, then. Thank you, Yuuri."

He sighed. He had not realized he was holding his breath. 

"Are you okay, Yuuri?"

"Yeah, I'm fine now." 

After a moment, she sighed. "Okay. I'll talk to you tomorrow Yuuri. Get some sleep!" she ordered, and he could hear the smile in her voice. The line clicked and everything was silent once more. He appreciated that she acknowledged his warning, however vague it must have seemed, and he was relieved that though she referred to his anxiety as "a bad feeling," she had acknowledged the importance of it. 

It. 

Them.

It wasn't just a single event. He had warned her just as vaguely before. "Don't drive to the rink today," "tell Axel not to use scissors today," "for the love of all that is holy, please tell Takeshi not to skate today." And it wasn't just Yuuko. A lot of the small town had heard of the awkward boy that helped run the onsen. Tales of his oddly specific requests had filtered through the grapevine on numerous occasions, but no one really believed in his ability and just put it off as a small town rumor concocted by the children. 

Yuuri began to trudge back home, feet blistered from the gritty asphalt. Skating would be out of the question for a few days, he sighed. 

This ability of his (more often a curse, in Yuuri's opinion) left him in solitude and melancholy most nights, just like this one.

 

\-------------------------------------

 

Victor focused on his ragged breaths as he ran down the empty sidewalks through town, past the quaint coffee shop and the darkened grocery store. He began slowing his pace as his apartment building loomed on the corner. After a few calculated breaths, he abruptly turned the corner down a pathway that would lead him down through the willow trees that swayed lazily in the early morning breeze. 

He glanced at his phone. It wasn't even five in the morning yet. He sighed and changed the song to a softer one, one befitting his mood. He hadn't been able to sleep, though he couldn't place his finger on the source of his uneasiness. Victor felt somewhat guilty for not bringing Makkachin along, but he had looked so comfortable and warm snuggled under the blankets on the foot of the bed that he couldn't bear to wake the dog. He felt listless. His legs needed to stretch and burn, his body had grown cold, physically and emotionally.

Victor had moved from his home to find some sort of purpose or inspiration to motivate him for his upcoming season. Figure skating had always been his substitute for actual human presence in his life, but it seemed that even that had begun to fail him. He huffed again. The loneliness had long since settled in his bones anyway. 

Victor shrugged the feeling away and rounded the corner onto the sidewalk leading back to his apartment- 

"Oomf!" 

Victor recoiled at the sudden collision and rubbed his aching chest softly. He quickly glanced down to see the source and- Oh. _Oh._

The man was _beautiful._

Otherworldly. 

He was mumbling something, but Victor couldn't hear-

"Oh, let me…" he ripped the headphones from his ears rapidly. "I'm sorry, could you repeat-" 

"I'm sorry," the man said softly as felt around for something on the ground. "I wasn't paying attention to where I was going." 

Victor was frozen. The man's voice was soft and lilting, but also a little shaky. It gave Victor chills as he bent to his level. "What are you looking for?" he asked helpfully.

"U-um, my glasses…" 

Victor pulled his phone out and turned on the flashlight, the streetlamps too far away to provide any kind of helpful lighting. "I don't see them, perhaps we widen our search-" 

The other man suddenly facepalmed then, groaning. "I forgot to put them on."

Victor studied him curiously. The odd character had unruly, midnight black hair which reflected the waning moonlight softly. His dark eyes were framed by bags and furrowed brows and his teeth bit nervously into his lip. Victor noticed the man had no shoes, and his feet looked blistered. 

"Are you okay?" Victor asked, obviously implying more had happened other than the graceful fall. He extended a polite hand and offered to help him up. Gingerly, the other's hand reached out and grasped his as Victor hoisted him up. 

"Yes, I'm fi-ouch- I'm fine." he nodded vigorously as he shifted his weight back and forth between his feet in obvious discomfort. 

Victor was enamored. 

The man's hands were soft, granted clammy (but his probably were too) and the contact gave Victor butterflies he had not felt in years. Victor stared at him once more, before turning around and kneeling in front of him.

"W-what are you-" 

"Hop on." Victor stated as he offered to carry him.

"Why? I can't-" 

"Your feet don't look too good, my apartment is around the corner, and it would look awfully loathsome on my character if I let an injured man continue walking along in the middle of the night." he declared matter-of-factly. 

The stranger glanced off into the distance then, squinting. "The sun will be up soon…" 

Victor laughed then and smiled at the man's comment. "You're right." he paused. "Hop on." 

The man seemed to deflate then, and that's when Victor noticed and his breath hitched. This man's ethereal beauty was only rivaled by the crushing weight of the existential exhaustion Victor could feel rolling off of the man in undulant waves.

Timidly the man stepped forward, gingerly placing his hands on Victor's shoulders and exhaling sharply when Victor lifted him up and wrapped his arms around his slim legs. 

Victor started off, rounding the corner as he had tried to do a few moments earlier. After a few steps the man grunted. "Aren't I heavy?" he mumbled. Victor shook his head.

"After years of carrying around my giant poodle, you seem light as a feather. And you're less furry." The man hummed then, and Victor wondered if maybe he had made the other smile (oh, how he wished to see what that man's smile looked like) and he chuckled too. The stranger began to relax then, as Victor could feel the pressure of the man's chest begin to rest against his back and the grip on his shoulder's began to loosen. 

"You have a dog?" Victor nodded vigorously.

"Makkachin is his name! He's friendly, but he chooses favorites-I'd like to think I'm his favorite, he certainly is mine- and he likes to go for walks on the beach, but I didn't bring him for my run this morning because he looked so sleepy and I don't usually run this early and oh! You'll get to meet him soon, we're almost there and-" Victor paused and inhaled sharply.

"I'm so sorry. I was rambling. About my dog-"

Victor stopped talking. The man was actually laughing now, tinkling musical notes that reverberated through Victor's bones pleasantly and sent warm shivers down his spine. 

"No, don't apologize. I-I like dogs." he breathed after composing himself. 

Victor grinned to himself as he fished his keys out of his pocket and began ascending the stairs and walking through the glass doors of the building. Quietly, he made his way to the elevator and pressed the button, not having to wait long as the building was peacefully quiet. He pressed the number 7 and the elevator dinged accordingly as they reached his floor. 

As Victor unlocked his front door he smiled.

"Welcome to my humble abode."


	2. Approximately Thirty-two Sprinkles and a Blooming Friendship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hot coco and giggles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter titles are not my thing, but I like this one for some unknown reason. Feedback is welcome and appreciated!  
> Tumblr: grayskies04

Yuuri squinted his eyes and scanned the apartment, stifling a huff. "Humble abode" was a gross understatement. Even without his glasses, Yuuri could see that the vast penthouse possessed strikingly white walls adorned with framed pictures of what seemed to be a chestnut-colored mass (curse his deteriorating eyes). Numerous bookcases lined the far wall and a laptop sat unattended on the desk in between them. A large, fluffy gray couch sat across from an even larger flat-screen television, and a charcoal grey table with a glass top sat in the middle. Some kind of glass case sat solemnly in the corner, seemingly an afterthought in the decoration of the home.

Slowly, Victor sat his guest down on the couch, ignoring the fact that the pressure he had relished on his back was now missing. "I'll be right back, I'm going to get first aid supplies."

Victor briskly made his was to the bathroom and pulled out a clean towel, bandages, an antiseptic. He heard the familiar shake of Makkachin's collar and an "oomf," so he rushed back to the living room.

His heart stopped.

Truly. 

Victor thought he might have a heart attack.

The gorgeous man was smiling as a large, brown mass of fluff filled his lap and licked at his face excitedly. "Makkachin," Victor said weakly. "Down, please."

The dog glanced at him a moment before continuing his attack on the giggling man. Victor hated having to demand such a heinous act for his dog. "Makka, down!"

With a whimper and a huff the dog climbed down and leaned against the side of the couch. "He's bigger than I thought," the man sighed as he pet the dog's head thoughtfully.

"I told you." Victor chuckled as he sat on the floor in front of the stranger...wait.

"My name's Victor-" the man stilled then, and Victor glanced up to see a blush spreading rapidly across his face. 

"I'm so-sorry. That was rude of me. I should have introduced myself first before intruding into your home." he grumbled as he hanged his head in his hands.

"You don't have to be so formal…." Victor paused then.

"Yuuri." the man looked up to give Victor a small smile.

"Yuuri," Victor breathed as it rolled off of his tongue and he nodded. "Yuuri, I'm going to clean your feet off now and apply some medicine, okay?" 

"Oh no, I can-"

Victor held up a hand and stopped him. "I'm good at this kind of thing, don't worry." 

Conceding defeat,, Yuuri gradually relaxed back into the couch (it was much more comfortable than it looked) and tried to sit still as Victor began cleaning up his feet. He wasn't exactly new to the feeling of bruised and blistered feet, but it had been awhile since it was so extensive.

"So," Victor began thoughtfully, catching Yuuri's attention. "How does one forget their shoes, in the dead of night?"

He peeked through his bangs and noticed the nervous gnawing of his lip that Yuuri probably did not even realize he did. 

"I...sleepwalk?"

Victor stopped then and stared unfazed at the mysterious wanderer. "I may not know you well-or at all- but am I really supposed to believe that?" he asked politely as a small smile played on his lips. 

"It would be easier if you did." Yuuri admitted with a sigh.

Victor went back to bandaging his feet, but Yuuri could feel he was still waiting for an actual answer. He did not feel as if this man was prying, nor was he entirely uncomfortable with his presence either. A quiet voice within him even seemed to whisper that maybe the man was truly concerned.

"Nothing bad happened," he began, hoping to placate any fears the man may have had. "I j-just couldn't sleep. And I needed to tell a friend something. Something important."

"At 4 in the morning?"

"At 4 in the morning."

Victor leaned back and guffawed then. Yuuri failed to see the joke, but the man's laughter had a calming effect on him and he found himself grinning in return. 

He collected himself and sighed, "Oh Yuuri," 

Warmth spread across his face and up to his ears, and he shivered. The way Victor said his name was _indescribable_ , and Yuuri began to find himself thankful that he had bumped into such an odd character. 

"I understand that you don't want to confide in a stranger," he stood and smiled softly down at him. "But maybe, we can be friends." It was phrased as a question, and the timid way in which the man seemed to stand in front of him intrigued Yuuri, and he felt himself being pulled into the Victor's gravity. 

"I mean....I-if you want."

"I do," was the immediate response.

After a pause, Yuuri leaned forward and smiled. "Then," he reached out a hand, "my name is Yuuri Katsuki. Nice to meet you." he spoke tenderly. 

Victor took his hand immediately. "Yuuri," he seemed to purr again, and began shaking his hand vigorously. "My name is Victor Nikiforov. And the pleasure is _all_ mine." 

Yuuri was sure he was going to pass out from embarrassment _long_ before he would from exhaustion. 

"Are you hungry, Yuuri? Admittedly, I don't have much food here, but I can run and get something?"

"Maybe just a little thirsty."

Victor hummed to himself and tapped his chin thoughtfully. After a moment he nodded. "Okay, it's decided." 

Yuuri looked on in confusion as Victor clicked the television on and placed the remote in Yuuri's hand. In a whirlwind, Victor was out of the room and Makkachin was back on the couch, this time with just his head resting on Yuuri's lap. Victor returned just as quickly as he left with an oversized red and white quilt that he flashily wrapped around his shoulders.

"Be back in a moment!" he waved as he rushed into another room-the kitchen from what Yuri could guess as the clanging of dishes soon followed upon his departure-and Yuuri giggled. Victor was interesting. Fidgety in a way much different from Yuuri, Victor's warm and inviting energy had him feeling peaceful and content, and he lazily began to stroke the curls framing Makkachin's face.

Soon, Victor swept into the room once more with a mug in each hand and a heart-shaped grin on his face. 

"Yuuri, I love this show, too!"

Yuuri glanced from the cotton-haired man to the tv and blinked. "You like cooking shows?" 

"I _love_ them! Though, I'm not that good at cooking admittedly." Yuuri laughed again, loud and unguarded and Victor caught himself staring at the way his nose crinkled in delight and the dimple in his cheek that only appeared in such a moment. He gulped and shuffled over to the light switch, taking the time to compose himself, and flicking it off with his elbow carefully, making his way back over to Yuuri. With a flourish he presented his craft.

 _"Ta-da!"_ he beamed proudly as Yuuri grasped the mug gently and studied it

"Hot chocolate with exactly three large marshmallows, approximately thirty-two rainbow sprinkles and one chocolate cereal straw to drink with." he plopped down on the floor in front of Yuuri once more and leaned against the couch. "This looks amazing." Yuuri whispered as the warmth from the mug seeped into his chilled fingers. 

"Mmmmm." Victor hummed as he took a sip. "My mother's recipe for a sleepless night." 

"How does one sleep after such a load of sugar?" he giggled as he sipped the liquid and the heat pooled in his stomach. 

"No clue, but it always helped me."

Yuuri studied the back of Victor's head for a moment. "Does that mean you couldn't sleep either tonight?"

A moment of silence lapsed between then, and Yuuri began to worry he had prodded too much. "Victor..." 

He turned and smiled softly at Yuuri and nodded. "I don't know why, but I couldn't sleep either. So that's why I went for a run." he turned away. "I just get restless sometimes." 

Makkachin whined then, seemingly reading Victor's mood. "Oh shush you,"

Yuuri grimaced to himself. Although he had had a similarly rough evening, Victor was trying to console him without prying into his life and without judgment. He was grateful. He was warm. 

"Victor,"

He froze.

"Thank you." 

_Close your mouth, for the love of GOD._ Makkachin's dark eyes seemed to say to him in that moment, and he listened. 

"Anytime, Yuuri." he squeaked as he turned himself back to whatever cooking show was playing, but his concentration was horribly focused elsewhere, like the rapid bouncing of Yuuri's leg beside his shoulder or the warmth emanating from him and the blanket- 

Victor woke with a start (when had he drifted off?) and glanced around quickly. The television had been turned off and the pleasant body heat that was once next to him had been replaced by the quilt now wrapped around his own shoulders. Makkachin lazed upside down on the couch in Yuuri's vacated spot.

Victor grumbled as he reached for his phone. 9:54 am. Twelve missed calls from Yakov. 

He groaned then, rough and drawn out and quickly gathered his skates and coat, now almost two hours late.

He paused at the door, a sticky note stuck just under the peephole.

_"Thank you for the hot chocolate (it was amazing) and cleaning my wounds. P.s. Sorry for borrowing your sticky notes."_

Victor chuckled to himself and peeled the note carefully from the door. He smiled gingerly at it as he stuck it to his refrigerator door. After reassuring himself it was properly secured and out of reach of Makkachin, he rushed out of his apartment building and into the sun, though he attributed the warmth resting in the pit of his stomach to a different existence entirely.


	3. Katsudon and Kindness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Victor searches for Yuuri like I search for my socks in the wash: feverishly and dedicatedly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick update because I had to stay home sick today. I apologize in advance for any mistakes, and I'll review it again later. I was just excited to start getting into the fun stuff. Thanks for reading!

"Again!"

Victor inhaled deeply, ignoring the burning that seemed to puncture his lungs and perforated his muscles. He circled the rink once more before gracefully leaping into a quadruple lutz. His landing, however, was even more impressive, the product of countless hours of practice and determination.

"Again!" Yakov barked from the other side of the wall, the disdain that normally was set into his grim face was even more pronounced today. 

"That one was technically perfect!" Victor normally didn't argue like this, but he had been at the same jump all morning and Yakov was relentless. He glided over to the side of the rink where Yakov loomed and picked up his water bottle. As Victor gulped down the water, he prepared for the berating he had had brewing inside of him all morning.

"Vitya," he began low, and Victor steeled himself. "I agreed to your request to spend your preseason abroad on the promise that, when I'm not here, you would practice just as hard and thoroughly as if I were. And yet, the week I took from the Russian rink to give to you, you waste my time by showing up late, unfocused and uninspired." 

Victor inhaled slowly, gathering his thoughts to formulate a response that wouldn’t send his coach over the edge. Though Yakov was definitely and despairingly seething, the silent storm of disappointment that shifted silently under his demeanor was even more crushing. After a moment, he cleared his throat. 

"I apologized for being late, and I'll do so again: I humbly apologize for both wasting your time and mine. I overslept. I have been practicing daily and as vigorously as if you were here, you know this, I have sent you videos. You know, Yakov, that I am eternally grateful that you agreed to continue coaching me, even from afar, and I would never do anything to jeopardize you or your reputation-" 

"Vitya." he interrupted gruffly. The look he pinned on Victor wasn't one of anger anymore, but one of sympathy. "My concern is not for my reputation, nor my time wasted. My concern is for _you _." He shook his head then, his gaze far away. "Yes, your jump was technically perfect, clean and refined. I see no fault with the execution." He sighed then, and Victor swallowed slowly.__

__"Then, what's the problem-"_ _

__"The problem Vitya, is just that! You can't see it!" The anger had returned in full force. "When you were younger, your jumps were no where near as clean as they are now. No comparison. But, the way in which you skated, the emotions you portrayed in your performances was riveting. People didn't care, really, if you landed your quadruple flip halfway through your program. No, they came for the experience, the pure journey you would take them on. Where is _that_ Vitya? The one who wanted to surprise his audience, his team? Where is he?" Yakov barked._ _

__Victor smiled sadly then, and he shrugged. He felt small. Yakov was the only one who could ever make him feel this way. But he was grateful to have a coach that would put everything on the line for something as simple as his happiness._ _

__"I'm trying to find it again." he responded quietly._ _

__"Find what?" Yakov growled as he rubbed at his temples._ _

__"My passion." He pushed off the wall then, rounding the rink and gathering his thoughts._ _

__He wasn't sure how he used to do it. How did he put emotion into his performance? Gather all of his thoughts that reminded him of his program and play those through his head, like a movie reel? While it might work, those emotions weren't fresh in his mind, and he felt that maybe he would distort them in the process._ _

__He grunted as he twisted into a sit spin._ _

__It wasn't his intention to disappoint Yakov and show up late. Yakov's trip this month was short, only a mere three days before he returned to Russia, and he wanted to refine the program and review details before leaving for another month._ _

__He stood from the sit spin and continued his path around the rink, gliding into a spread eagle and gesturing languidly with his arms._ _

__No, he wouldn't have been late if not for Yuuri._ _

___Yuuri._ _ _

__He grinned to himself as the events from last night (this morning?) replayed in his mind. Yuuri had been fidgety and nervous and absolutely _adorable._ And he had said he'd like to be friends with Victor! _ _

__He giggled to himself as he leapt into a toe loop and-_ _

___CRACK!_ _ _

__"Vitya!"_ _

__Victor rolled over onto his back and tried to catch his breath and slow his heartbeat._ _

__Yakov was standing above him then, smirking at him._ _

__"You haven’t flubbed that jump in years." He reached a hand out to help Victor up, and he took it._ _

__"I know, what was I thinking?" He hummed as he stood and inspected himself. Everything was intact._ _

__"Whatever it was," Yakov barked one, sharp laugh. "Keep it in mind. That was the best toe loop I've seen from you in years."_ _

__Victor stared in disbelief as Yakov exited the rink and waved. "Practice is over for today. Remember that feeling, and we'll go off of it tomorrow. I'll text you a recap later."_ _

__Left alone, Victor could feel the grin spreading across his lips._ _

__Falling had never felt so much like flying before._ _

__\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------__

__Victor smiled at his phone as he pulled up Chris's contact number. Hopefully he'd gotten the time zones right and Chris would be awake. He pressed "call."_ _

He pressed speaker and set the phone down on his counter as he dried his hair with a towel. He reached into the fridge and grabbed a water bottle as he heard a "Hello," purr through the line.

__  


__

___"Good morning, Chris!"_ _ _

___A pause and a barely audible yawn._ _ _

___"Good afternoon, Victor." Chris hummed in return. "You're calling relatively early today. What's the news?"_ _ _

___Victor smiled giddily and plopped down on his couch, resting the phone on his chest. "Am I that predictable? I can’t just call to chat?" He joked._ _ _

___A deep chuckle resounded through the room once more. "Sure Victor. But you wouldn’t have called this early. What's the news?" he repeated once more._ _ _

___"I met the most beautiful man yesterday, Chris. His name is Yuuri."_ _ _

___"Yuri? Isn't that the little blonde kid that you share a rink with?"_ _ _

___Victor shook his head and laughed. "No, not that Yuri. A gorgeous, black-haired Yuuri with elegant chestnut-colored eyes and a cute nose and-"_ _ _

___"Ahhhh, it's been so long since I've heard you speak with such a voice. Hmmm when was it, when you got that dog?"_ _ _

___"Now now, Makkachin is a very special friend."_ _ _

___"You can’t do certain things with a dog Victor."_ _ _

___Victor laughed. "Your mind is horribly filthy."_ _ _

___"Your point?" Chris laughed too. "So, have you been texting him all day? Did he have something to do, is that why you've taken a break to call me?"_ _ _

___Victor froze. "Texting…?"_ _ _

___He groaned._ _ _

___Chris groaned._ _ _

___"Victor, don't you _dare_ tell me you didn't get his number."_ _ _

___Victor whispered, "No.."_ _ _

___"An address?"_ _ _

___"No."_ _ _

___"An instagram? A twitter? _Anything?"__ _ _

___"Well, you see-"_ _ _

___"Victor!"_ _ _

___Victor's euphoria came crashing down at the realization. How had he been so naïve? Of course he'd be the one to meet an earthbound angel, only to forget to ask them for something as simple as their contact information._ _ _

___"Well, the town you're in, is it big?"_ _ _

___"Not really." he slumped down further in the couch, failing to see how the size of the town could compare to the size of the lump of shame that now made its residence in Victor's throat._ _ _

___"Then, why don’t you ask around? If he is as beautiful as you say he is, then you shouldn’t have a terrible difficult time finding him."_ _ _

___"Chris, you are a genius. A horribly filthy-minded genius!"_ _ _

___"You're welcome." he chuckled. "Let me know how the search for Prince Charming goes."_ _ _

___"Prince Charming is the one who did the searching though."_ _ _

___"Whatever. Goodbye Victor."_ _ _

___And with a click, Victor was up from the couch and rummaging through his closet. Swiftly, he threw on a simple white V-neck with a blue stripe across the chest and a pair of jeans._ _ _

___He walked back to the living room, and nudged Makkachin with his elbow as he began putting on his shoes. "Makkachin, let's go for a walk, hmm?"_ _ _

___The dog perked then, and he barked in return. Victor patted his head then stood, grabbing a light jacket and ushering Makkachin out the door._ _ _

___"We'll find him for sure."_ _ _

___ _

___\----------------------------------------------_ _ _

___ _

___Victor plunked down onto a set of cracked stone stairs and exhaled exhaustedly. Makkachin rested on the stair below him, whimpering his tired agreement._ _ _

___Softly, he patted him and huffed again. "Well, I _thought_ we'd find him." ___

__

__

___He watched silently as people passed on the sidewalk and road below, scurrying home as the sun began to set against a backdrop of rubies, oranges, and violets._ _ _

___"Hey," a gravelly voice sounded behind him, and he turned to see a woman with her hair pulled back messily in a loose ponytail and a disinterested look on her pale face. She leaned lazily on the broomstick in her hand and the other hand rested on her hip. "If you sit there, you'll get covered in dust as I sweep."_ _ _

___"Oh, I'm sorry." he quickly stood and dusted his pants off before nodding a thank you._ _ _

___She studied him even more closely then, her eyes boring holes into him. He stood his ground. Was this a challenge?_ _ _

___"What are you doing there?" she asked inquisitively._ _ _

___"I was resting. I've been walking around all over town today."_ _ _

___"Why?"_ _ _

___Victor paused. He didn’t have to explain his reasoning to such an abrasive person, but he had already spent hours asking everyone within sight if they'd heard of a dark-haired flighty man, and he had come up empty. Asking one more person couldn’t hurt._ _ _

___"I was searching for someone. Maybe you could help me?" he plastered his friendly, well-known smile on his face, and hoped it would affect her the way it did every one of his fans._ _ _

___She snorted then, raising an eyebrow curiously. Victor found her somewhat intimidating._ _ _

___"Who are you looking for?"_ _ _

___He took a breath and began reciting the description he had perfectly memorized at this point: "I am looking for man with stark black hair, chestnut-colored eyes, and a nervous persona. He is extremely nice though, despite the nervous nature of-"_ _ _

___"What do you want with Yuuri?" she growled defensively._ _ _

___He stilled._ _ _

___"I hadn’t mentioned his name yet."_ _ _

___The woman's lip curled then, and he could feel the protectiveness roll off of her in waves._ _ _

___A quiet question popped into his mind: had the whole town know just who he had been referring to, but refused to engage in the search for fear they were putting the man in danger?_ _ _

___It made sense. In such a small town, everyone was bound to know each other._ _ _

___Despite the realization, he smiled. Though his search had been prolonged much longer than necessary, he was glad that the townspeople were more than willing to protect one of their own._ _ _

___"I've been looking for him all day. Is he around?"_ _ _

___"What business do you have with him?"_ _ _

___Victor ran his hand through his hair wearily._ _ _

___"I just wanted to check in on him and make sure he was okay. I met him early this morning, and he hadn’t been wearing shoes. He was quite disheveled." It wasn't a lie, he truly wanted to ensure Yuuri was okay. But, he also wanted his number. No shame in denying it._ _ _

___The woman huffed then. "I knew it, that little…" She paused and glanced back down at him. "Come on, now. We'll get you fed."_ _ _

___Victor grinned childishly and sprinted up the stairs, Makkachin pouncing behind him in his wake._ _ _

___She gave him a sideways glance. "My name is Mari. Yuuri is my younger brother."_ _ _

___Victor studied her a little more closely, but finding the resemblance was proving to be a little more difficult. She obviously dyed her hair, and the numerous piercings in her ears separated her from the picture in his mind even more. Their eyes, while the same color, differed in that Mari's were squinted with disdain and judgment while Yuuri's were round and welcoming._ _ _

___"My name is-"_ _ _

___She waved him off. "I know."_ _ _

___After walking down a stone path for a few minutes, they approached a low, long, brown building that Victor could see steam rising from somewhere in the back.  
She pushed through the door and waved him in, slamming it behind him. She quickly led him down a hall, through a curtain into a dining room filled with low tables and tatami mats. A television sat in the front of the room and people sat around chatting and eating something that tickled Victor's nostrils pleasantly. _ _ _

___"Here, have a seat. I'll go get my brother." She hesitated though, sparing him one last look before exiting behind a another curtain on the adjacent wall. "Yuuri, you have a visitor!" Victor stilled as the other customers in the room stopped speaking and looked him up and down. Soon enough, they returned to their idle chatter and Victor plopped down in his seat, Makkachin resting at his feet obediently._ _ _

___Victor waited for what seemed like hours before the curtain Mari had disappeared into shifted again, this time revealing Yuuri, who was wearing a navy apron over his long-sleeved black shirt and dark grey sweatpants. "Victor?" He shuddered at Yuuri's voice and began to respond- "I'll be right back!"_ _ _

___Victor sat with his mouth gaping, and promptly shut it. Maybe Yuuri hadn't actually wanted to be friends at all? Maybe that's why he had left so early without saying goodbye and maybe-_ _ _

___Victor's thoughts were interrupted by a mug filled with fragrant tea being placed gingerly in front of him. "I-it's earl grey." Victor glanced up to see Yuuri smiling at him softly and he smiled back as he took a sip and Yuuri took a seat across from him._ _ _

___"You have on shoes and glasses this time I see," Victor pointed to him, and Yuuri's blush flowered across his cheeks as he nodded._ _ _

___"Thanks again," he muttered as he took a sip of his own tea._ _ _

___Victor nodded and studied him. He rather liked the way Yuuri looked with or without glasses, and he seemed less distraught now than he was hours ago. "Are you feeling alright?"_ _ _

___Yuuri laughed then, though it didn’t reach his eyes. "Sorry about that."_ _ _

___"That wasn't an answer, Yuuri." he grinned slyly._ _ _

___Yuuri rested his head in his palm. "I'm fine."_ _ _

___Victor could tell, between the bags under his eyes, somewhat hidden by the glasses, and the slumping of his shoulders that Yuuri was, in fact, not fine. But, he didn’t mention it. Instead, he changed the subject. "What's that smell? It smells delicious."_ _ _

___Yuuri laughed again, this time the tell-tell dimple in his cheek making its appearance. "That's right, you don't keep normal human food in your kitchen."_ _ _

___Victor stared in disbelief at Yuuri and the jab he had made, but dissolved into giggles a moment later._ _ _

___"I'll be right back, again." he declared as he stood once more and disappeared behind the curtain. He returned a moment later carrying a tray of many items. He sat the tray down on the table and placed a large bowl in front of Victor first, then he knelt and pet Makkachin before placing a bowl of water and a small bowl of pork on the ground for him._ _ _

___"It's katsudon." he explained as he picked up his chopsticks and pointed to Victor. "Prepare to have your mind blown."_ _ _

___Victor snorted as he picked up a piece of pork and plopped it into his mouth._ _ _

___With an amused look on his face, Yuri gestured. "Well?"_ _ _

____"Vkusno!"_ _ _ _

___Yuuri chuckled and began eating too, neither of them noticing the sly looks thrown their way from the other customers nor from Yuuri's family._ _ _

___"Vicchan, it's nice of you to stop by." A warm smile was offered to him as a small, chubby woman placed another warm cup of tea in front of him._ _ _

___"Thank you kindly, um-"_ _ _

___"Victor, this is my mother, Hiroko." Yuuri introduced fondly._ _ _

___"Oh! It's nice to meet you."_ _ _

___She patted his shoulder kindly and walked off to hand off another cup of tea to another table._ _ _

___"She's so nice!"_ _ _

___Yuuri nodded as he finished off his pork cutlet bowl. "What brought you here?"_ _ _

___Victor paused as Yuuri adjusted his glasses anxiously._ _ _

___"I came to see how you were doing." he took a shaky breath then, laughing at himself for being nervous, almost child-like. "I would have texted you, but I didn't have a way to reach you." he finished with a quick sip of tea._ _ _

___Yuuri stared at him then, frozen. "I-I, uh,-"_ _ _

___"Yuuri!!!"_ _ _

___They jumped as the room was filled with laughter and noise._ _ _

___"Yuuri, why haven't you come by recently?"_ _ _

___"Do you not like us anymore?"_ _ _

___"Of course he likes us, dummy-"_ _ _

___"Girls!"_ _ _

___The three identical girls froze and turned toward their mother, who's disapproving look pinned them into submission._ _ _

___"Don’t cling to Yuuri like that, and make sure to give a proper greeting!"_ _ _

___"Yes ma'am." they all groaned in unison._ _ _

___"Hello, Yuuri." they all smiled again as Yuuri pat them fondly on the head._ _ _

___"Hello, what are you guys up to?" he responded warmly._ _ _

___"Mommy said we couldn’t play at the park today, so we came here instead!" one piped up._ _ _

___Victor noticed the way Yuuri seemed to stiffen at the comment._ _ _

___"Axel!" The girl huffed again._ _ _

___The brunette sighed again, but the smile returned to her face when she finally noticed Victor._ _ _

___"Hey Victor, how is practice going?" He recognized her from the rink. She was the one who ran it, and who kindly agreed (after setting up a payment plan) to let him have a certain amount of hours to himself at the rink daily for practice._ _ _

___"Yuuko, right? It's going well, thank you." he grinned and she nodded excitedly in return._ _ _

___"Victor, we've been wanting to meet you for so long-"_ _ _

___"But mom wouldn’t let us come near the rink-"_ _ _

___"Because she thinks we'll leak your routine to the internet!"_ _ _

___"You would." she grumbled._ _ _

___Victor sat in surprise. He had come to the small town to avoid prying eyes and being recognized and harassed but-_ _ _

___"You all…know who I am?" he whispered._ _ _

___Yuuko and Hiroko looked at him sympathetically, the girls laughed, and Yuuri watched him with an amused expression._ _ _

___"Of course we know who you are Victor. No one in town ever mentioned it though. We thought that if you were making the move to such a small town, that you'd want your privacy." Yuuko explained slowly._ _ _

___"Oh." he said watery._ _ _

___He was… _happy._ Realizing that no one in the town would even give him a hint at where Yuuri was out of care elicited a pleasant feeling in his chest, but realizing that they were doing the same for him by leaving him to his own and not revealing to the world where he was sparked a bubbly, giddy feeling that exploded throughout his body. He smiled, beside himself with joy._ _ _

___"Victor?" Yuuri's small voice brought him back to reality. "Are you upset?"_ _ _

___He shook his head furiously. "I'm…forever indebted to all of you." Glancing around, the pleasant smiles on everyone's faces made him feel more comfortable than he had in an infuriatingly long time._ _ _

___"Don’t think anything of it!" Yuuko waved him off. "Yuuri these are for you. The girls helped me bake these, as thanks for last night."_ _ _

___She presented a box of assorted cookies, some with messy pictures drawn on them in icing obviously made by the young triplets._ _ _

___He smiled sadly up at her, and nodded. "It's okay. Thank you." he mumbled, as a news bulletin blared on the television across the room. All eyes migrated to it in alarm._ _ _

___"This just in," a male news anchor began, "the driver of a small white car has barreled into a fire hydrant just feet away from the playground across from the local elementary. The driver has been arrested for suspected intoxication. The street has been flooded, but no one has been reported injured at this time. More details to come as we receive them."_ _ _

___Hushed murmurs began to spread through the dining room as Yuuko bent to Yuuri's level._ _ _

___"Oh Yuuri, thank you so much."_ _ _

___He nodded solemnly and stood._ _ _

___"I-I'll see you guys later." he began to exit, obviously shaking. Turning once more, he smiled softly at Victor. "Goodnight." he murmured, and was gone._ _ _

___Yuuko sighed as she set the untouched cookies down on the table._ _ _

___"What just happened?" Victor asked in a low voice as Mari joined them, her arms crossed tightly but her eyebrows knit in concern._ _ _

___"What always happens."_ _ _

___He must have looked confused, because Mari smiled for the first time, rather sickly._ _ _

___"Yuuri is _always_ right._ _ _

___\------------------------------------------------------------------------------_ _ _

___Victor trudged home with Makkachin in tow, the disappointment of leaving without Yuuri's number weighing heavily on his conscience. At least he knew where to find him now. But the disappointment he felt couldn't overshadow the lingering sense of something being entirely off about Mari's statement and the way Yuuri had left. He felt saddened in that moment, wanting desperately to reach out and pull Yuuri close to his chest. He moaned to himself as he climbed the stairs to his building and waved to the front desk security guard as he passed._ _ _

___"You're out later than usual." the man remarked. "The sun's already down."_ _ _

___Victor nodded and provided him with a tired grin as he entered the elevator and pressed the number 7. Fiddling with the keys, he entered his apartment and slammed the door before slipping his shoes off, gliding to his bedroom and falling into bed. He felt the familiar weight of Makkachin on his left side before pulling the covers up to his nose and drifting off to sleep, with thoughts of Yuuri's defeated expression replaying despairingly in his mind._ _ _

___ _

________________________ _ _

___ _

___Victor awoke to the sun having barely risen, and the buzzing of the intercom system from the front desk blaring incessantly. He groggily rushed to the living room and pressed the button on the system that continued to sound right by the door. "Yes?" he mumbled._ _ _

___"Victor, you uh, have a visitor." The security guard sounded unsure._ _ _

___Victor glanced down at his phone. 7:03 am._ _ _

___"I'll be down soon, I need to leave anyway." he responded quickly._ _ _

___Briskly he grabbed his duffel bag and a sweater before slipping his shoes on and bidding Makkachin a fond "good morning." As he entered the elevator, he lamented his aversion to alarm clocks. Normally his internal one woke him at precisely 6:30 am everyday, but the past couple of days had him out of whack._ _ _

___Yawning, he disembarked from the elevator and froze. There, pacing in the lobby of the building with the suspicious guard looking on, was Yuuri._ _ _

___"Yuuri," he took a step toward him hesitantly. "Is everything okay?"_ _ _

___Yuuri glanced up from him then, and he inhaled sharply as he ran a hand through his hair shakily. "Victor. Uh, good morning."_ _ _

___Victor looked him up and down. "You forgot shoes again."_ _ _

___"I remembered my glasses." he pointed out coyly._ _ _

___"That you did." Victor spoke slowly, unsure as to what could have Yuuri so wound up so early._ _ _

___"How long have you been waiting?"_ _ _

___"He got here around 4 am, sir." The guard piped up before returning to his seat his desk._ _ _

___"Yeah, like he said." Yuuri said anxiously as he began to twiddle his fingers._ _ _

___"And you're here because?"_ _ _

___"Well, I couldn't remember exactly what number your apartment is, so I thought I'd wait down here until you left for practice-"_ _ _

___"Yuuri," he spoke softly._ _ _

___"I had to tell a friend something. Something important."_ _ _

___"At 4 in the morning?" Victor smiled at the familiarity._ _ _

___Yuuri did too as he nodded. "At 4 in the morning."_ _ _

___Victor pushed forward. "And what did you want to tell me?"_ _ _

___Yuuri shifted his weight back and forth as he stared at his feet._ _ _

___"I…you…" he inhaled again, shakily. "You can't go to practice today."_ _ _


	4. Confessions and Comfort

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor finally finds out why Yuuri acts so strangely, and Yuuri finds a nice place to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the comments and kudos, it's all appreciated greatly!
> 
> More soon~

Glancing around anxiously, Yuuri came to the conclusion that he must look like an absolute lunatic in Victor's eyes. How odd it must seem, to have a man you just met wait outside of your home at such an early hour. His heartbeat buzzed in his ears loudly and he began to regret his hasty decision to rush to Victor's.

So, when Victor appeared from the elevator with a glossy look in his eyes and a shocked expression, Yuuri quickly tried to formulate an excuse, an explanation, _something_ that did not sound as childish and unconvincing as "I had a bad dream." 

But, when Victor's concerned gaze rested on his jittery demeanor, he felt the embarrasment wash away and his mouth moving much faster than his mind.

"Excuse me?"

"You can't go to practice," he squeaked once more, and Victor's eyes furrowed in response.

"Why not?"

Yuuri's laugh was sharp and grating, even to his own ears. "It's hard to explain, and I'm not sure you'll believe me."

Yuuri's gaze shifted downwards and he shifted his weight once more, his knee quivering in fatigue. Silence lapsed between them and stretched on for what Yuuri thought must have been forever, when he heard Victor clear his throat. 

"Good morning."

Yuuri's eyes snapped back up to Victor, who's unblinking gaze held his steadfastly as he spoke into the cellphone that Yuuri hadn't realized he had pulled from his pocket.

"Yakov, I'm apologizing in advance, but I cannot make it to practice today."

Yuuri swallowed in disbelief as indiscernible shouting could be heard from the other end of the line.

"Yes, I am aware of the implications." Victor's hard expression cracked slightly then as the corner of his mouth perked in a small smile. "Yes, it does have something to do with the toe loop." A pause. A hum of agreement. "Thank you." 

Victor pocketed his phone once more and blinked. "So, I'm not going to practice today. What now?"

The knot of uneasiness within Yuuri uncoiled completely and suddenly, and the rush of exhaustion that had been put at bay by the desperate need to warn Victor came crashing down on him.

He gave Victor a lackluster smile while adjusting his glasses. "Thank you, Victor." 

He turned to go, willing his feet to just _make it home_ without giving out, because two dreams of this caliber within two days was surely going to be the death of him.

"Yuuri," Victor's voice was low and dangerous, and Yuuri felt heat pool in his cheeks when he realized that Victor's long, slim fingers were wrapping gently around his wrist. It sent fireworks up his arms that branched out and sent jitters through his chest. He turned to look up into Victor's eyes shyly.

"Yes?"

"What _now_?"

Yuuri stiffened. What did Victor want? An explanation, probably. But the one he would get would be one he surely wouldn't believe, so why bother? 

_Because you like him,_ a whisper lilted within his tired, hazy mind.

Truly, he would love to tell Victor everything, reveal the dreams and reveal himself, but in the event that Victor did laugh in his face for such absurdities he wasn't entirely sure he could piece himself back together in the wake of another rejection.

A sigh interrupted his thoughts.

"Yuuri, I don’t want you to feel like you have to explain everything right now, okay?"

Yuuri's breath hitched, and he whispered, light as a feather, "Really?"

Victor nodded and placated Yuuri's thoughts with a bright smile, and he began tugging Yuuri toward the elevator. 

"U-uh, Victor, wait-"

"Nonsense," he waved him off as they entered the elevator and began the ascent. "Unfortunately, my plans got canceled today. So we can figure out something else to do instead!" Victor joked.

And Yuuri found himself laughing quietly as he allowed himself to be pulled along by the warm, gentle fingers wrapped around his wrist and his will.

\------------------------------------------------

Victor wondered if Yuuri noticed.

Because he had noticed. He had noticed the way Yuuri's body seemed to give out when Victor declared he wouldn't go to practice at his request. Victor noticed the fear that undulated in Yuuri's eyes when he hinted at an explantion. And he _definitely_ noticed when Yuuri jumped slightly as his fingers wrapped his wrist carefully and calculated, so as not to scare him off, and the way Yuuri relaxed into the hold as they made their way to his apartment. 

He felt giddy. And confused. Giddy because Yuuri hadn't pulled away from him. But the confusion from dinner the night before and the current situation weighed heavily on his mind. Pushing Yuuri for answers did not seem like a wise course of action at the moment, if Yuuri's fidgety feet and exhausted eye rubbing were any indication. 

As he unlocked his door, Makkachin came prancing over to them and Yuuri finally pulled his hand free to stoop to Makkachin's level and shower him with compliments and head rubs.

"Who's a good boy, hmm? Definitely you-"

"Yuuri, you'll spoil him."

"Don't you do that already?"

Victor laughed and nodded, unable to disagree as he dropped his bag by the front door and kicked off his shoes. 

"Yuuri, you remove your shoes as well."

Yuuri frowned. "That's not funny." But the frown disappeared as quickly as it had appeared.

"Make yourself at home." Victor offered gently as he made his way to his room, entered the closet and began sorting through some of his old clothes. With an "a-ha!" he briskly made his way back to Yuuri, who sat in the kitchen at the dining room table, head weighing heavily on his palm. He looked up through his bangs as Victor held out the piles of clothes and a towel he had scrounged up, and his brows crinkled in confusion.

"Uh-"

"Shower."

Yuuri's whole body seemed to redden then as he quickly sniffed at his shirt and blinked.

"Do I smell that bad?" he asked, fraught. 

"No, but a shower might feel nice after the night you've had. Sorry if they are a bit big on you." Victor reasoned as he once more pushed the clothes in Yuuri's direction.

Yuuri inhaled slowly before gingerly taking the clothes from Victor's hands, trying to ignore the tingles that spread throughout his palms when their fingers momentarily brushed. 

"I-I don’t want to intrude, Victor."

Victor waved in the direction he had come from. "First door on your left, Yuuri." And when he began to shuffle away, he added "Don't worry about it, okay?"

Victor waits for the soft click of the bathroom door's lock before exhaling heavily and collapsing in the chair Yuuri had vacated.

He had acted brashly again, without think of the consequences. But it was just one practice, right? He could easily make that up. That wasn’t the problem.

The problem was the effortless way in which his resolve seemed to crumble under the uneasy and shifty gaze of the bespectacled man who now bathed himself a few feet away. Victor tried to shake himself of those thoughts. 

Although he had known Yuuri for only a short time, he felt connected to him in a way that he hadn't felt with anyone since the beginning of his career. And it was _scary._ Victor wanted to help Yuuri, wanted Yuuri to just _let him in,_ to see behind the façade that he kept up in the face of something he had yet to explain to Victor. Victor yearned to become something Yuuri could count on, someone he could trust.

Someone that Victor could trust.

Victor smiled to himself as he absentmindedly petted Makkachin. Would he have agreed to skip practice if he hadn't trusted Yuuri, even a bit? _How embarrassing,_ Victor thought. Yuuri could have told him that Russia wasn't even a country and he would have nodded in agreement almost immediately. 

"Victor?" 

Victor's head snapped up, and he inhaled sharply. 

The small, cream colored sweater he had given Yuuri to wear hung loosely off of his pale shoulders and his black sweatpants were rolled up so as not to drag on the ground.

"I put my clothes in the hamper in your bathroom, is that alright?" he asked as he ran his hand through his moist hair.

Victor nodded sharply and stood, walking to the cabinet and pulling out bread.

"I'll make some toast, okay?"

"Sure."

Silence lapsed between them once more, and Victor concentrated on slathering grape jelly on the toast instead of the expanse of collar bone that peeked at him from the threadbare sweater that Yuuri currently lounged in. 

He plated the toast and shuffled back to the dining table, setting it down between them. Yuuri grabbed a piece and began munching quietly, his gaze unfocused and seemingly elsewhere. Victor waited patiently for Yuuri to return to the present, hoping that his assumption that Yuuri would eventually open up to him would prove right.

"Victor, are you superstitious?"

Victor studied Yuuri's glossy eyes as he formulated a response.

"What? As in, do I not step on cracks to avoid breaking my mother's back?" He half-joked, failing to follow Yuuri's train of thought.

He shook his head and chuckled, finishing off the toast and leaning back. His fingers tapped nervously on the tabletop as he waited for Victor to finish as well. Victor folded his hands stoically in front of him as he waited. Yuuri worried his lip a moment longer before muttering, "I saw that car, the night we met."

"I'm sorry? I didn’t catch that."

Yuuri shifted again. "I-I saw that car. The night we met."

"Car? The one from the news last night?"

Yuuri nodded. "I saw it. Before it happened. I saw it barreling down that street, except it didn’t hit the fire hydrant. It hit the triplets as they chased after their ball-"

"What do you mean, 'you saw it?'" Victor inquired carefully. He didn’t want to push him, but he wasn’t entirely sure he was piecing together what Yuuri meant.

Yuuri lifted his hands, uttered a noise, and then let them fall in his lap.

"There's no way on earth you would ever believe me." he half-heartedly laughed, and Victor's mouth settled in a firm line.

"Try me."

Yuuri looked him in the eye then, searching. Victor hoped he'd find what he was looking for, and he must have, because a moment later, he sighed.

"My dreams. I see things. Events really. Usually, not so pleasant events." He grew quiet again.

_"I had to tell a friend something, something important._

_"Mommy said we couldn’t go to the park today!"_

_"Yuuri is always right."_

"Yuuri," Victor inhaled shakily. "You were warning Yuuko that night?"

He nodded once. 

"Your dreams…come true?"

"Dreams? More like nightmares." he joked sadly, but upon seeing Victor's frown, he nodded again. "But, yes. They do."

"And you came early this morning, because you had a dream about _me?"_ Should he feel as flattered in this situation as he does? 

Yuuri blushed and averted his gaze.

"Yes."

"Can you tell me what happened?"

The fear swelled deep within Yuuri's dark eyes again, and Victor swore he could see tears welling up in them. 

"No, not yet." he whispered. Victor shivered at his eerie tone, but he reached out comfortingly nonetheless, as he rested a hand on Yuuri's. 

"That's okay, Yuuri. Later then." And the look Yuuri pinned on him then, full of gratitude and relief and something warm, knocked Victor back. He swallowed thickly as he stood, picked the plate up and tossed it in the sink. 

"Come on, let's go watch tv?" he suggested. Yuuri hummed his agreement as he, too, stood and followed Victor into the living room. Victor briskly grabbed an extra blanket from the hall closet and made his way back to Yuuri, whose lap was occupied by his very large dog. He seemed to be shaking slightly, and Makkachin licked comfortingly at his hand. 

Victor silently wrapped the red and white quilt he had used the night before heavily around his shoulders, turned the tv on and the lights off. He flicked to a cooking show that had already started, and he cocooned himself in the fleece throw blanket he acquired from the hall closet.

"Do you t-think I'm lying?" Yuuri's small voice whispered beside him. Victor reached out from his blanket and pushed the quilt smothering Yuuri down so he could see his face.

"Why would you think that?" he asked curiously.

"I-I just…Normally, people don't. Understandably."

"You've told others?" Victor deflated. He had wanted to be a sole confidant to Yuuri, but obviously there had to be others.

"No one too important, really. When I first told my parents about the dreams, they were kind of frightened. Something had to be wrong with their son if he was having such vivid dreams at such a young age."

"How old were you when you realized they started coming true?" Victor inquired softly.

"I was eight when I started realizing that what I dreamed was actually happening." Yuuri sighed as he shifted his gaze toward Victor. "My parents took me to a psychologist, who told them it was simply my imagination. That I was confusing daily happenstances for similar events that occurred in my dreams, nothing more." He laughed coldly. 

_"Yuuri,"_ he groaned. "I don’t like when you do that."

Yuuri blushed, and apologized. "Should I stop talking? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable-"

"No!" Yuuri jumped, and Makkachin grunted as he jumped from the couch and onto the floor. "I want to hear everything!"

Yuuri blinked. "Seriously?"

"Seriously."

"O-okay…"

"When did you start losing sleep because of it?"

The abrupt question surprised Yuuri, and his eyes widened accordingly. Victor immediately regretted asking, but Yuuri patted his knee and retreated just as quickly.

"I started losing sleep when I was thirteen." he started sighing. "My parents wanted to take me back to a psychologist, but I didn’t want to have to explain myself again. People don’t really believe this kind of thing readily." he huffed. 

"But Yuuko does."

Yuuri smiled fondly. "Yeah. We grew up together, so she's always known about them."

"Do you only dream about people you know?" Victor questioned, hoping to piece together a better picture of Yuuri's ability.

"I usually dreams of events. Sometimes, rarely, it's something out of my control. People I don't know, things I can't fix. But if it does involve someone I know, well-" he gestured to himself. "Here I am."

"Yuuri, you cant save everybody." Victor spoke quietly, reverently nonetheless.

"You're right," he smiled sadly. "But I can try to save the people I care about the most."

Victor's throat closed as the image of a smaller Yuuri, crying in his bed at night, alone, because he didn’t want to bother his parents because of another nightmare played in his mind.

"That's somewhat stubborn of you." Victor smiled softly.

Yuuri hummed sleepily.

"Yuuri, would you like to rest in my bed?"

Yuuri froze.

Laughter burst from his mouth. " I didn’t mean like that, Yuuri! I just meant that if you're tired, you can sleep in my bed if you want. I can stay out here." 

Victor rather liked how easy it was to make the raven-haired man blush.

"N-no, I'm fine-"

 _"Yuuuuri,"_ he groaned, and Yuuri's eyes widened at the admonishing tone. "You're really going to sit here and tell me that you aren’t tired?"

His eyes were cast downward as he worried his lip once more. 

"I j-just meant that I am f-fine, here. Uh, with you." 

Victor blinked. Electricity seemed to branch out from his chest.

"Okay. Then, please stay." he gestured with a hand awkwardly.

Victor tried, with much more difficulty than he would admit, to focus on the tv, or Makkachin's lolling tongue as he slept, _anything,_ but the hammering of his heart as it danced within the confines of his chest, his ribs a birdcage preventing flight. He jumps wildly then, as a warm pressure appears on his lap. Even in the dark, Victor can see the burning blush spreading across Yuuri's face as he rests there tensely. 

"Is t-this okay?" Yuuri asked quietly. "I don’t l-like to be alone after the d-dreams."

"Of course, Yuuri." he breathes.

Gently, he pulls the quilt around Yuuri more tightly. He can feel Yuuri's body start to relax into him, and he, too, can feel himself melt, melt, melting into the couch and into the heat that is emanating from Yuuri's worn body.

"Victor," a small, slurred voice came from below.

Victor hummed as he removed his glasses and placed them on the table in front of them. 

"Thank you."

Victor's breathing hitched as Yuuri lapsed into slumber, his breathing evening out and the lines in his face relaxing completely. 

Victor smiled to himself and nodded.

Truly, he thought, no gold medal had ever weighed so nicely upon his neck as Yuuri did upon his lap.


	5. Peachy Embrace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spaghetti and a nice invitation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking around! The next couple of chapters has more fluff, before the angst sets in.~

Victor groggily blinked and tried to focus on his surroundings. The show that had been playing before had transitioned into another and the midday sunlight peeked lazily through the curtains.

He began to shift and stretch, but the weight on his lap kept him grounded. 

Weight? He stilled.

It wasn't Makkachin that rested in his lap, it was Yuuri.

And this was _not_ a dream.

A grin slowly spread across his lips and he sighed happily. Missing a day of practice wasn't so bad every once in awhile. And he'd been training every day of his life practically anyway. He studied the peaceful expression that Yuuri displayed so openly and began mentally tracing his features.

The nervous grin that he seemed to wear like a mask was softened and pleasant; his lips were parted and pink. His nose wasn't crinkled in delight like Victor had come to adore, but the few small freckles that splayed across his nose were still endearing. And his eyelashes, dark and long and absolutely _delicate_ fluttered slightly, and Victor hoped his dreams were peaceful ones. 

Yuuri stirred then, slurred a few words and turned over in Victor's lap, facing up at him. He blinked at Victor and mumbled, "what are you doing?" 

_Oh._ When had Victor's mental caresses become _physical_ ones?

"I, uh, was going to go out for a bit. I was just letting you know." Victor rambled as he gently laid Yuuri's head on a pillow and stood. 

He sped to the bathroom and began brushing his teeth and running a hand through his hair. Nothing had made him more nervous then Yuuri in recent years, and he was beside himself with how disjointed his thoughts had become and ultimately giddy Yuuri made him feel.

He left the bathroom and made his way back to the living room, where Yuuri had seemingly fallen back asleep. He smiled to himself as he slipped on his shoes and stuck his wallet, keys and headphones in his pocket. 

Yuuri popped his head up from the coach suddenly then, squinting in Victor's direction suspiciously. "Where are you going?" 

Victor laughed lightly then and held his hands up defensively. "I'm only going for a run. No rinks involved." 

Yuuri stared at him (or rather, in his general direction) for another moment before plopping back down in his original position.

Makkachin appeared then too as he plodded over to Victor and whined.

"Not this time Makkachin, we'll go for a walk later! I promise." he crooned as he ruffled his fur. He stood up straight again as he donned a stern voice. "You're in charge, Makkachin." The dog barked once in agreement and sped over to the couch, jumping heavily on Yuuri and making himself comfortable. 

Victor grinned once more as he began exiting, and before the door clicked close, he heard a soft voice call out "be safe," and his heart called out in return.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

_"Yuuri~"_

Victor pushed the front door open with his elbow and waltzed in excitedly. "I'm home!"

Yuuri sat on the floor, his right leg extended in front of him and his left folded in front. He looked up in surprise.

Victor frowned at the discomfort that laced Yuuri's features as he stretched. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." Yuuri waved dismissively. "I just have a bad leg."

He stood and reached to help Victor carry one of the bags in his arms. "Welcome home." He paused. "Victor?"

Victor blinked, once, twice. He'd been caught staring, open-mouthed. 

He'd never known how delighted such a greeting would make him feel, and the genuine way in which the words fell off of Yuuri's tongue was purely _addicting._ He swallowed thickly before turning and gliding to the kitchen. 

"I got some things from the grocery store, considering my limited bread selection might not satisfy for much longer." 

Yuuri chuckled behind him as he slid into a chair. 

Victor thought he looked remarkably refreshed, though the bags still lingered under his smoldering eyes. 

"And," Victor began as he walked over to Yuuri with a smile and placed a black box in his lap. "I got you these as well." 

Yuuri brows furrowed as he pulled the lid off. Slowly he pulled a dark blue running shoe with two black stripes on the side out of the box, turning it this way and that.

"You can keep those here!" Victor grinned at him happily. "That way, if you do forget your shoes-which you will- you'll always have a pair here!"

Yuuri wasn't answering. Victor tapped his finger against the table anxiously. 

"I-" Yuuri began slowly, and his voice shook ever so slightly. "Victor, you didn’t have to do this." 

"Nonsense, Yuuri! I just wanted to make you more comfortable." He swallowed.

Yuuri finally looked up at him then, and the unguarded fondness that exuded from his earthy eyes caught Victor by surprise and he hoped that Yuuri couldn't hear the beat his heart was drumming in his chest.

"Thank you, Victor…" 

Victor wasn't sure what compelled him to move his leaden feet to close the space between them. Maybe it was the lack of oxygen in his brain; he thinks the last time he took a real breath was before he entered his apartment. Or maybe, it was his weird sleep schedule as of late. Whatever the reason, he's now pulling Yuuri up from his chair, the shoes discarded on the ground having fallen from his lap, and wrapping his arms tightly around Yuuri's waist. 

He's almost positive now that Yuuri can, in fact, not only hear his heartbeat, but _feel_ it against his cheek that's pressed firmly against Victor's chest. 

Victor takes his first real, controlled breath, and inhales Yuuri's intoxicating scent, something earthen and peachy. 

"V-Victor?" Yuuri's confused, muffled voice pierces through his brain and he blanches.

He began to pull away. "I'm so sorry, Yuuri, if I invaded your space suddenly like that-" 

Victor might just have ascended. Was it possible to imagine the tender way in which Yuuri wrapped his arms around Victor's shoulders a moment later?

"I-I was surprised but….it's fine like this." 

Victor groaned as he rested his chin on Yuuri's head. "Can I have your phone number now?"

Vibrations spread throughout his body as Yuuri tried to contain his laughter before it escaped from his mouth. He detached himself from Victor (begrudgingly) and held a hand out. 

"I can give you mine, but I forgot my phone at home this morning." 

Victor nodded vigorously before swiftly placing his phone in Yuuri's hand. He hurriedly puts up the rest of the groceries as Yuuri taps away at his phone, until he's interrupted by a snicker. 

"Is your phone case a replica of your costume from Stammi Vicino?" 

"Maybe." Victor grumbled. "It was my favorite program."

"Mine too." Yuuri smiled warmly as he placed his phone back in front of him.

"How about, as thanks, I make lunch, er, dinner, uh…what time is it?" Yuuri grinned apologetically as he pushed his glasses up on his nose.

"It's 2:24, Yuuri." 

He nodded as he began sifting through ingredients. "So, lunch?"

"That'd be amazing." Victor beamed. 

"Leave it to me, then. Go shower." he waved dismissively. 

Victor feigned hurt. "What? Do I smell that bad?"

"Yes." Yuuri declared as he began digging through cabinets for various bowls and cutlery.

He smirked at Victor over his shoulder. "Just kidding."

"You've wounded me, Yuuri Katsuki." he pouted as he dramatically exited.

"You're too much, Victor Nikiforov." his giggle trailed behind him.

\--------------------------------------------

Victor had never showered so fast in his life. Any minute spent in the bathroom was another away from Yuuri, and it was becoming increasingly more difficult to separate himself from Yuuri's company.

He hastily threw on a green tee and white shorts, combed through his hair haphazardly and burst through the bathroom door. 

The smell of food hit him like a truck. He hadn't realized how hungry he was.

He inhaled deeply as he paused at the entryway to the kitchen. Yuuri was facing away, handling something on the oven, whistling a familiar tune. The sweater yet again dipped low on his shoulder and Victor found it so _enticing._ How nice it would be to taste the food Yuuri was concocting presently, but how much _nicer_ would it be to sink his teeth into the peach-scented expanse of skin between his neck and collar-bone-

"Victor? Done already?" _Caught._

Victor mechanically marched up to the counter and asked, "Is there anything I can help with?"

Yuuri smiled warmly at him and shook his head. "I'm done, I just have to plate it."

He huffed as he sank into a seat. "I'm disappointed I missed the show."

"You admitted yourself that you can’t cook very well." Yuuri laughed as he set a plate of spaghetti in front of Victor.

"But I also stated that I love watching the shows."

Yuuri nodded as he set a basket of breadsticks between them and took his place across from him.

"Next time then." he blushed lightly, and left Victor wondering if it were from the promise or from the heat in the kitchen. 

"Thanks for the meal!" Victor cheered before shoveling a forkful into his mouth. "S'good!" he beamed.

"Thanks." Yuuri smiled before digging in as well. 

Victor wondered if Yuuri was as overwhelmed by the pleasant domesticity that permeated the atmosphere as he was.

After a few moments of content silence, Victor cleared his throat.

"I have to go back to practice tomorrow, Yuuri. I have a performance in a few weeks."

Yuuri slowly swallowed before nodding. "Of course." His gaze seemed far off again. Victor wanted to pull him back quickly.

"But, if you want to go-"

"What?" That caught his attention.

"If you want to go," Victor continued hopefully. "Then you can make sure I don't get myself into any trouble."

Yuuri seemed to turn that over in his head. "Really?"

Victor nodded and smiled softly. "I would love your company, Yuuri."

Yuuri's ears burned red as he nodded. "That would be…fun."

Victor beamed as he leaned forward excitedly. "Yeah! It will be!"

Yuuri returned his smile as he began picking up their dirty plates and placing them in the sink.

"I have to go, to help at the onsen." 

Victor deflated.

"Don’t worry about the dishes, I can clean them." Victor offered as he led Yuuri to the door.

"Ah, do you want to wear the shoes-"

"Those I'll leave here."

"So, you _are_ coming back?"

Yuuri shifted his weight back and forth. "I mean, I'd _like_ to, if that's alright-"

"Yes!" 

Victor himself melted as the tenseness in Yuuri's shoulders unknotted at his assurance, and he thought that if he could spend the rest of his days just reassuring Yuuri, comforting him, he'd die a happy man.

What he wasn't expecting then, as Yuuri stepped out into the hallway, was the hesitation that clouded his eyes before he stepped back in and nervously threw his arms around Victor. 

Victor pulled him in a little more snuggly before letting him go.

Yuuri's blush was blinding as he stepped back into the hallway.

"I'll text you later Yuuri!"

Yuuri called back, a grin in his voice. "I'll be waiting."

_Absurd,_ Victor thought. Like he'd make him wait _at all._


	6. Feel It Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Warning: short and not overly descriptive panic attack.**
> 
> Yuuri tags along and Victor makes a realization.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Closer and closer to angst we get....

Yuuri wakes earlier than intended. His text from Victor states that he usually makes it to the rink by 7:30 am, but that Yuuri didn't have to be there at that time if he didn’t want to. 

And yet, here Yuuri stood at the Ice Castle at 6:42 in the morning, the sun itself barely peeking over the horizon. He paced for awhile, before his leg started protesting and he ended up plopping down on the stairs. 

He wondered if Victor knew the impact that his invitation had on him.

1) He'd be able to ensure that that dream wouldn’t come to fruition and  
2) He'd longed to see Victor perform again in person.

He'd always watched Victor from a young age. Victor was his idol. He'd even gotten to see him in person a few times when Yuuri was still in the junior division. 

But, fate has a weird design, and it was a miracle the Yuuri hadn't lost his mind that first night he bumped into Victor. But, he'd lost a lot of color in his life and the vivid cerulean of Victor's eyes had begun the illumination of his life the past few days.

He shifted uneasily. 

Victor hadn't pressed him to reveal his dream, apart from Yuuri's initial admittance. And while he was grateful, a nagging feeling had him wondering why. Why wouldn’t you want an answer to a crazy man spewing prophetic nonsense at you in the middle of the night?

Yuuri shivered and ran a hand through his hair. The dream had felt more realistic than any of the others.

_"Victor Nikiforov from Russia is down!"_

_"It's over for him!"_

Yuuri could feel tears welling up and he took a steady breath to prevent them from falling. He knew exactly what was at stake, and the pain associated with it. He wouldn’t let it happen to Victor.

"-ri. Yuuri!" he jumped as someone tapped at his shoulders. 

Glancing up, he's met with affectionate azure eyes staring down at him.

"Goodmorning, Yuuri. You're here early." Victor hummed as he extended a hand and helped Yuuri up. "Did you sleep well?"

Yuuri smiled graciously and chuckled. "Well enough. You're here early as well."

"Of course I am. I knew you were going to be."

Yuuri tried to hide his reddened cheeks as they entered the rink and Victor sat down on the bench to put his skates on.

"Yakov will be here soon, so I'm going to go warm up, okay?" He slipped onto the ice. "Let me know if you need anything." Victor smiled warmly as he pushed of the wall and began circling the rink.

Yuuri pulled his jacket around him a little more tightly before finding a seat away from the entrance where he wouldn't be seen immediately. 

He envied the way Victor immediately seemed to lose himself in the soft music that echoed throughout the rink. Yuuri hadn't been able to lose himself in anything until yesterday when Victor's lap was open and inviting-

Yuuri shook his head, anxiously trying to rid himself of the thought. Victor was just being kind to him, that's all. 

When he took him in and treated the cuts on his feet, that was him being polite.

When Victor made him hot chocolate, that was him being helpful.

When Victor listened to his plea, that was him being understanding.

So why did a small part of him hope it was something a little more than that?

Yuuri studied the way Victor launched himself into a toe loop and sighed. Everything about Victor was comforting and welcoming. Of course he'd want to protect him. Even if Victor could never look at him in that way (the way Yuuri looked at him, though he'd never admit it) he still valued him. And he'd protect him from fate itself.

"Vitya!" the grating voice that resounded from the rink snapped Yuuri back to reality. Victor skated up to the balding man and rested his elbows on the wall.

Victor was nodding furiously, and he gave the man a sheepish grin before pushing off once more while the man plugged in music. He launched himself into a few more jumps before the man-Yakov, Yuuri guessed from Victor's earlier comment- signaled him to begin running through his program. 

Yuuri's breath hitched in his throat as the lonely melody began to echo through the rink and the anguish set into Victor's features. His heart broke. He wanted to reach out and sweep his greyed bangs from his forehead softly. He wanted Victor to rely on him. 

And he knew it would never happen.

His anxiety seemed to surge with each jump Victor threw himself into. No matter how flawless the landing, Yuuri could feel his head swirling and his stomach lurching. His leg felt shaky, and he squeezed his knee in response. 

_"It's over for him!"_

Yuuri swallowed thickly. He could feel the bile rising in his throat. He stood, swayed a bit, and hurriedly made his way past the seats and behind a pillar, out of sight. He collapses against it, welcoming the cool sensation on his burning back. He heaved a few times and tried to catch his breath, but everything was swaying and the only thing he could hear anymore was the blood rushing in his ears and he was sweating and, _god,_ when did he take his jacket off? His leg is trembling and so are his hands and he'd give anything to just be able to _breath_ again-

_"You've wounded me, Yuuri Katsuki,"_

Yuuri laughs, suddenly and sharp, swiping at the hot tears that had managed to spill down his chilled cheeks. Victor's calmingly low voice pierces through his muddled mind. He sniffles and tries to resettle his heartbeat.

"You're too much, Victor Nikiforov." he smiles to himself as he cleans his glasses and stands.

 

______________________________________________________________

 

Victor shakes Yakov's hand as they talk across the barrier. "I'll see you next month at the Rostelecom Cup, Vitya." Victor nods solemnly. 

"Overall, your performance has improved," Victor smiles, "though not at the rate I thought you would." Victor blinks. 

"Is that bad?"

Yakov shakes his head and smirks. "No. I think a day off is what you needed. You've been pushing too hard. At this rate, you won't peak so soon in the season." Victor sighs.

"Then everything is set then-oh! Yuuri!" Victor releases Yakov's hand and waves frenetically as Yuuri appears from the stands. He looks surprised, but he smiles anyway and waves back mildly. 

Yakov grunts as he studies the pale man. "Yuuri?"

Victor nods. "Yuuri Katsuki." he beams.

"Is he the reason you missed?"

Victor sighs contentedly. "Indeed, he is."

"Katsuki hm." Yakov grunts again and waves. "Behave, Vitya.

Victor doesn't wait for Yakov to exit completely before gesturing for Yuuri to come back down to the floor. But as Yuuri gets closer, Victor takes in his reddened eyes, pale complexion and shaky hands.

Something was _wrong._

"You were amazing, Victor." Yuuri gave him a warm smile despite the pain Victor could see hidden within the depths of his dark eyes.

Victor looked him up and down once more. "Yuuri, do you want to skate?"

Yuuri stared. "What?"

Victor laughed as he pointed to the desk Yuuko now stood behind in the lobby. "Go get some skates, and join me. It'll be fun."

He was sure Yuuri would politely decline, so he was surprised when Yuuri shot back, "You're not too tired?"

Victor shook his head. "I'll find some fun music while you go get skates, okay?"

Yuuri nods once as he goes to talk to Yuuko, and Victor begins to queue music he thinks might calm Yuuri. While he wasn't sure what had set him off, it was obvious he was distressed. Asking him directly might not provide him with any answers and might actually serve to set him off again. So, he thought, maybe just gliding along with Yuuri while he feels his way through his internal struggle would be best for him.

Yuuri returns and leaves his skate guards and glasses nicely on the bench, and Victor held out his hand to provide Yuuri stability. He glanced down at Yuuri's skates, sleek black ones with shiny new blades, and thinks to himself how odd it was for the Ice Castle to have such nice rental skates. 

Victor leads him out to the center of the ice, pleasantly surprised by Yuuri's balance and dexterity on the ice. 

"I mean it, y'know." Yuuri mumbles as he begins skating backwards, glancing down at his feet. Victor follows.

"Hmm?"

"Your skating. It's beautiful."

"Thank you." Victor hums. He's received the compliment thousands of times but somehow, being uttered softly from Yuuri's pale lips makes his heart swell anyway.

"Do you like skating?"

Victor tripped.

"W-what?"

Yuuri paused and flipped back around, picking up his pace. "Do you like skating?" he repeated inquisitively.

"Why do you ask?" 

"In your interviews, you've always said that you wanted to surprise people. And you always have." he paused thoughtfully. "Your program this year. It's so sad." 

Victor choked. He skated up to Yuuri and wrapped his arms around his shoulders from behind, leaning heavily on him.

"What if I told you I was?" he whispered.

Yuuri seemed to contemplate this for a moment before twisting into the embrace and burying his face in Victor's chest. His arms hung loosely at his sides as he sighed. 

"I'd tell you to rely on me and tell me when you feel bad."

Victor smiled into Yuuri's hair.

"The same goes for you, you know." Victor chided.

Yuuri huffed. "You first."

"Skating becomes a burden after awhile. A burden that you have to face alone." He absentmindedly begins to trace circles into Yuuri's shoulder. "The top of the podium is where I found rockbottom." he chuckled.

"You don't enjoy skating anymore?"

"Yuuri, the most fun I have had skating in the past four years has been right here, simply going around in circles with you." Victor inhales. The words had slipped out before he could catch them. 

Yuuri pulls away slightly to smile up at him. "That makes me happy." 

Victor freezes.

And he realizes: Yuuri has taken more control over his heart than he himself has in at least a decade. And he's _fine_ with it.

"Your turn." he states weakly. Yuuri buries his face once again.

"I j-just want to thank you, Victor." The melody playing shifts into another, but they remain rooted to the spot. "For not pressuring me to elaborate on something that I'm still trying to work through. And for taking care of me in the middle of the night. I've never had many friends, but," he swallows and continues. "But, if my not having many friends paved the way to meeting you, then I wouldn't change a thing that's happened."

_"Yuuuuri,_ are you trying to kill me?"

Yuuri's laugh is loud and musical, like wind chimes.

"Wasn't my intention-hey!" Victor had begun sliding down, and now was lying face down on the ice. Yuuri laughed even louder.

"But _alas,_ I have been slain." he moaned dramatically.

Victor gasps in surprise when Yuuri joins him, lying on his stomach inches in front of him. "You should have been an actor instead of a skater." he jokes, and Victor reaches up to thread his fingers through Yuuri's black locks. Yuuri peers at him cautiously.

"I can't wait to see you skate at the Rostelecom Cup." he whispers.

Victor slowly leans forward and places a lingering kiss on his forehead.

"I can’t wait for you to watch."


	7. Pin and Pining

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viktor rather enjoys observing Yuuri.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I try to update quickly. Thanks for sticking around for so long!
> 
> Comments pay my bills<3
> 
>  
> 
> Tumblr: @grayskies04

Yuuri doesn't share much about himself, so Victor takes to observing him.

Once, Victor was awoken by soft knocks on his door that he wouldn’t have heard had Makkachin not begun to whine in response. He'd shuffled from his bedroom to the front door and silently opened it, knowing only one person would be up even earlier than the sun. 

"Yuuri," he yawned as he gestured him inside. "Are you alright?"

Yuuri had forgotten his glasses again, he noted.

"I'm s-sorry. I really didn’t want to wake you, that's why I chose not to text you. I wasn't planning to end up here, but I was wandering around a-and," he shifted nervously. "I just found myself here. I'm sorry." he mumbled softly.

_"Yuuri,"_ Victor breathes as he pulls Yuuri into a tight embrace. "You can message me anytime. I'll always answer." Yuuri relaxes into him as he nods into his shoulder.

Victor begins to keep his phone on the loudest setting at night, placed right next to his pillow.

\-------------------------------

Victor soon realizes that, although Yuuri's late night "adventures" have him awake at godforsaken hours, he really isn't a morning person. 

He'd awoken one day after hours spent sleeping restlessly in Victor's lap (pure bliss, they'd both tell you anyhow) and gone to the kitchen to make coffee. Victor had entered the kitchen moments later to find that Yuuri had forgotten to place a mug under the stream and was sleepily staring into space at the table. Victor hadn't laughed so hard in a long time, but he tried to hide it behind a hand as he and Yuuri cleaned the spill and Yuuri's blush threatened to ignite the kitchen in flames.

After Victor remakes it, he also learns of Yuuri's inevitable sweet tooth.

"Yuuri, your coffee is basically white."

With a nose crinkled in disdain, Yuuri retorts, "and yours is bitter, much like you're acting right now."

"Of course I'm bitter, you used all the cream and sugar!"

They're smiling brightly at each other from across the table, and Victor swallows the whisper of sadness that wells up in his throat at the realization that he'll have to leave for competition soon.

________________________

Yuuri is a worrywart.

Upon Victor's invitation, Yuuri tags along a few days a week to Victor's practices, simply to appease his mind. He does discover, however, that even though Yuuri seems to hold his breath every time he leaves the ground, he has interesting input.

"U-uh, maybe," he mumbles from the wall. He's biting his lip and fidgeting with his glasses. "Maybe, you should spread eagle into the toe loop instead of out of it. And maybe this arm," he perfectly mimics the gesture from Victor's program, his right arm swooping around his head and his left extended out, "after that." 

Victor's mouth is hanging open and his eyebrows are quirked in surprise. Yuuri notices.

"I-I mean, it's just a thought!" 

Victor shakes his head and grins. He thought Yuuri was just ensuring his dream wouldn’t come true, but he was elated to learn that Yuuri had actively been watching his movements, watching him. 

"I'll try it!" He gives Yuuri a warm smile and skates back to the center of the rink, discovering that Yuuri's keen eye despite his failing vision intrigued him more than any of his own programs ever had. 

 

____________________________

Yuuri is dependable.

"Yuuri, are you sure? I can find a kennel to board Makkachin at while I'm away, it really is no problem-"

"Victor," he chides as he hands Victor his coat. 

People are bustling by, wordless chatter fills the air. "You have your ticket, right?" 

"Yes, Yuuri, I have my ticket right here. So, back to Makkachin-"

"Victor, your flight leaves soon. You need to go." Yuuri is smiling, though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

"Yes, right." he nods stiffly. Running a hand through his grey hair, he sighs. 

"What, are you nervous?" Yuuri jabs half-heartedly. 

Victor grins. "These things don't make me nervous anymore." 

"No, I guess not." 

Victor whines. _"Yuuuuri,_ aren't you going to tell me that my programs are going to be great?"

He laughs as he begins to pin something to Victor's collar. "No matter how your programs go, _you'll_ be great."

"What's that?" Victor tries to glance down at the item, but Yuuri's mischievous eyes distract him.

"Something for good luck." 

Victor wraps his arms around Yuuri's shoulders and rests his chin atop Yuuri's head. Yuuri's arms wind around Victor a second later, and Victor can’t help but wonder who he'd have to pay to get them to freeze time in this moment. 

"I'll call you when I get there." Victor mumbles into his hair softly.

Yuuri is warm and Victor is melting and they're pulling away from each other much too soon. 

"Be safe." Yuuri breathes.

Victor places a soft kiss on his forehead as he turns to go; willfully he pushes down the urge to turn and look back at Yuuri, knowing that if he sees his face again before boarding the plane he may not make it on.

When he mechanically takes his seat on the plane- a window seat, thankfully- he remembers Yuuri pinning something on his shirt. He removes it, and rolls it between his fingers thoughtfully. 

 

"Oh, how pretty. A gift from your girlfriend?" a flight attendant smiled down at him politely.

"Not exactly." 

She smiles apologetically and moves on with her cart, but Victor doesn’t feel so pitiful. He repins the sunflower to his shirt and sighs to himself.

Yuuri is superstitious.

And Victor is lonely, once again.


	8. Late Night Lines

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "That's okay, Yuuri. This one was definitely from one of my dreams."
> 
> Victor is one smooth dude.

Victor pays the taxi driver and watches as they speed off. The familiar frigid air sets back into bones quickly, so he pulls his jacket tighter around him. He stiffly trudges into the lobby of the hotel, knowing somewhere in the same building his Russian rinkmates slept.

"Ah, Victor. Welcome home!" He turns to greet the person at the front desk in Russian. It'd been awhile since he'd had a full conversation in his native tongue. A bellhop takes his suitcase for him and he's issued a room key.

Upon entering his suite, he takes note of the alluring skyline view of the city from the wall of ceiling-to-floor windows and smirks. Russia, while breathtaking and indescribable in all its glory, could be very cold.

He huffs and plops down on his king sized bed, neglecting to remove his shoes or jacket. He slips his phone out of his pocket and groans. It'd be extremely late in Japan right now. He decided to leave a voicemail anyway.

Warmth blooms in Victor's chest when he sees his wallpaper: a sleeping Yuuri who's head is in his lap, his black hair splayed every which way and Victor holding a finger to his lips signaling silence. Yuuri didn’t know he had taken the picture.

He presses call and waits for the phone to ring. Once. Twice. Three times. _Click-_

"Hello?"

He sits upright immediately.

"Yuuri! You're awake?"

There's shuffling, and Yuuri's voice comes through more alert. "Yeah. Did you make it alright?"

"I am in one piece, yes. Is Makkachin behaving for you?" 

"Like he's ever been a handful?" More shuffling. "Here, look." 

Victor accepts the video call and begins giggling immediately. Makkachin is lounging on his back on Yuuri's bed, Yuuri's glasses perched precariously on his snout.

"I thought that might cheer you up." his face appeared in view then, and Victor relaxed back into the bed.

"What do you mean?"

"You're obviously sulking."

Victor paused.

"Excuse me?"

Yuuri rests his head on Makkachin and takes his glasses back. "You. Are. Sulking."

He smirked. Looks like Yuuri was observing him too.

"I'm just a little jealous, that’s all." he smiles softly.

"Because I'm the one with your dog right now?" Yuuri is laughing now, and even though they're in different time zones and miles apart, Victor can still see the amused twinkle in his dark eyes.

"Because he's the one with _you."_

Yuuri's eyes widen and he turns his face away. "You act like it's been years since we've seen each other. It hasn’t even been a day." he mumbles.

Victor nods. "You're absolutely right. It's been about a day since I've seen you, and almost two months since we've met. Yet to me," he sighs, and Yuuri's smoldering eyes are glued to him once more, "to me, it feels like I've known you far longer than that."

An unguarded expression blooms on Yuuri's face, and the fondness that shows there leaves Victor breathless. Why does he find it so hard to just tell Yuuri his feelings? He think he's out of practice.

"What?"

Had he said that _out loud?_

"I was wondering if you'd ever dreamt of our meeting." That hadn't been his question, not even close, but he was curious nonetheless.

Yuuri's eyes look faraway as he shakes his head. "I can't see myself in my dreams."

"At all?"

He's shaking is head again. "Anything I see, I'm removed from. I'm just an onlooker. And the things I dream of never pertain to myself." His smile is forced, Victor can tell. "I guess that would be too easy, if I could see my own future."

Victor searches his face intently for a few moments before sighing. "That's okay, Yuuri. This one was definitely from one of my dreams."

"Where'd you get your lines from, Nikiforov?" Yuuri mumbles as he hides his blush with a hand.

"I've never used that line in my _life,_ Katsuki. And, I am absolutely _offended_ that you'd say such a thing." he holds a hand to his heart dramatically, and Yuuri dissolves into giggles. Victor exhales and winks at Yuuri. "I guess you just bring out a different side to me." he purrs.

He wanders if Yuuri realizes that he isn't joking this time.

"I should let you sleep." 

Victor can sense Yuuri retreating, and it takes all of his willpower to not whine like a child.

"Sure." he nods feebly. 

"Aren't you excited, to see all of your rinkmates?" Yuuri asks softly, genuine.

"I am." Victor assures him. "I'll see them in the morning at practice." 

Yuuri runs a hand through his already disheveled hair and exhales. "Please, j-just be safe. For me?" 

How much courage that must have required for him to say, Victor thinks.

"Anything for you, Мой подсолнечника." he smiles fondly.

Yuuri's brows knit in confusion. "What's that-"

"It's a secret." he flashes a toothy grin and can practically hear Yuuri's eyes rolling.

"Goodnight, Victor." 

"Sweet dreams, Yuuri."

Victor lets Yuuri end the video call first, before he tosses his phone on the bed to go take a shower, reluctantly. Washing off the day felt like washing of the remnants of Yuuri. He glanced at himself in the mirror and laughed.

The skating world's most eligible bachelor, Victor Nikiforov, was smitten.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Мой подсолнечника- My sunflower (according to translate)
> 
> Please correct me if I'm wrong!
> 
> Also, I know the timeline for the skating competitions isn't accurate, but it helped for the flow.
> 
> Thanks friends~


	9. Radio Silence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mimosas and miscommunication.

Yuri looks up at him through his strikingly blonde bangs and grunts. "It's been awhile, old man."

"Yuri, have you grown?" Victor begins fussing over the younger skater fondly, and even though he tries to shove him away, his half-hearted attempts let him know he isn't exactly _not_ enjoying the attention.

"Oh, is that Victor?" a petite redhead with ocean blue eyes pops her head around the corner and lights up. "Georgi, Victor's here!"

Victor grins as his old rinkmates surround him in the lobby of the hotel, and their loud chatter gets them ushered out into the street. They agree to breakfast, and demand to know what Victor's been up to. 

Georgi takes a sip of his mimosa and points at Victor. "Have you met someone? You have that _glow."_ His features don a wistful expression. 

"Georgi, you are ever so observant." Victor chuckles as he finished off his own drink and smiles. "His name is Yuuri."

Mila blinked at him. "Yuri is still so young though, isn't that illegal in most countries-"

Victor waves dismissively as Yuri sputters on his juice. "Like hell I'd be involved with a guy like Vic-"

"Maybe you haven't grown as much as I thought, Yurio." Victor sighs as Yuri's anger mounts. 

"I have too grown! And who the hell is 'Yurio?' That's not my name!"

"Yurio, I kind of like the sound of it…" Mila ponders as Georgi nods in agreement. 

"It'll be easier to differentiate between the two of you now." Georgi concludes. 

Yuri's eyes pass over each of their faces before he leans back in his seat, defeated.

"Victor, do continue." Mila leans forward. "It's been so long since you've talked about, well, _anybody."_

"Yuuri is…different." They're staring at him. "He's beautiful and quiet and stubborn, oh is he _stubborn-"_

"Victor, are you in _love_ with this guy-" Yuri asks incredulously.

It feels like the whole restaurant is holding its breath. Victor opens his mouth to reply, and shuts it once more.

Before Victor can reply, Yuri's phone goes off. Yuri mumbles a string of incoherent words before he hangs up. "Yakov wants us at the rink. Now."

________________________________________

 

Yuuri paces back and forth under the grove of swaying willow trees while Makkachin watches on in curiosity. Worrying his lip, he exhales exasperatedly. 

Victor's short program performance was in two days. No worries there. It wasn't the short program that had him concerned anyway.

It was his free program. 

Yuuri absolutely adored Victor's free program. It was grounded and vulnerable and moving and Yuuri knew the judges, the _world,_ would love it just as much. Of course they would, Victor had been working hard on perfecting it.

Too hard.

Yuuri shook his head and groaned. 

No, the timeline is wrong. It's not supposed to happen yet. He should relax. Just relax.

His head was foggy. Victor has only been gone a few days, and he had left perfectly fine! So he should just breathe and- 

He stumbles. He thinks to himself that it's an unseasonably warm day. He attributes the sweat coating his cool skin to the weather and shakes his head. He's tired, exponentially more tired today than he had been recently. When was the last time he had slept? 

He rubbed the back of his neck as a grin twitched on his lips. The last time he had slept peacefully, he'd woken to Victor's heart-shaped smile glimmering down at him happily. That had been at least five days before.

If Mari found out, she'd kill him.

He swore to himself. Usually, he'd been much better about monitoring his sleep schedule but lately he'd just been so scared to fall back asleep, knowing that that dream would instantly start playing behind his eyelids as soon as they shut.

At least he'd remembered to eat lately, right? 

He sighed as he gestured to Makkachin. "Makkachin, let's go ho-" Yuuri swayed and tried to catch himself on the tree. His body felt much too heavy now, and gravity was in control now. Yuuri could see the ground rushing up to meet him, but the darkness engulfed him before the ground could.

__________________________

Victor wiped at his sweat with a towel as he checked his phone. No notifications from Yuuri today. Victor had sent him a good morning text…and a have a good day text…and a "did you sleep well?" text… He sighed.

"Victor, let's go get dinner!"

Mila, Georgi, Yuri and Yakov waited for him impatiently by the rinkside, so he pocketed his phone and stood to join them. Yuuri couldn't possibly be upset with him for what he said in their video call…right?

________________________________

Yuuri had to be mad. He hadn't responded to any of Victor's calls or texts in two days and Victor was anxious.

"What's up with you?" Yuri's eyes looked him up and down suspiciously. 

Victor returned to stretching his legs as the roar and chatter of the audience roared above head. "He would have at least said 'good luck,' right?" Victor mumbled.

"This is about the other Yuuri? Should you really be thinking about that now? You go on in less than ten minutes." Yuri's intentions were good, he was just trying to prime Victor for his short program, Victor knew. But the tumultuous storm of concern and nerves swirling in his brain had him on edge.

"What else should I be thinking about Yuri? Winning?" he growled, and instantly felt apologetic. "I'm sorry, Yuri. You didn't deserve that."

"Yeah, whatever, just give me your jacket. Yakov is waiting for you."

Victor complies, and Yuri's eyes rove his costume.

The material is skin tight and silky; green snakelike scales fade to blue and black as they travel from his left shoulder to his right hip. He wears black gloves and black skates with golden blades. He checks to make sure the fasten that connects some extra material to his left shoulder is secure, but not completely so his costume reveal is still workable. When pulled back, the green and blue scales were replaced with purple ombre. He triple-checked that the golden sunflower pin was tucked safely under his lapel and he exhaled.

"Ready."

He marched over to Yakov on the side of the rink and handed him his skate guards. He plastered a wide smile on his face as he skated to the center.

Gently, he kissed the pointer and middle finger on his right hand and placed it lovingly right above the place where the pin rested, right above his heart.

He hoped Yuuri was watching.

___________________________

Victor left the kiss and cry feeling, well, bored. Another day, another kiss and cry, another reporter asking him how he felt going into his free skate in first place.

He kept his winning smile stretched wide across his lips and answered all of their questions politely and cheerfully, hoping he didn’t come off as forced as he felt. Yakov bristled beside him. 

"Vitya, your performance has been better."

Victor reached in his gym bag and pulled out his red and white tracksuit as Yakov lectured him on his leaps and overall performance quality. He shrugged it on as he hummed in agreement and gingerly placed his skates in his bag. Absentmindedly he pulled out his phone and powered it on. 

"So tomorrow morning we will work on-"

Victor shoots to his feet as a missed call notification appears on his screen. "Yakov, I'm sorry, I have to take this." He bolts from the room and flies down the stairs, desperately searching for somewhere, _anywhere_ quiet to return the call. He finds an empty bathroom away from all of the commotion and checks the stalls to ensure no one was in there. He leans against the door, prohibiting interference and takes a deep breath to steel himself.

He'd already concocted about 100 different apologies in his head already, and he hoped at least one would work.

He pressed call and waited. He drummed his fingers anxiously against his thigh as the dial tone seemed to drone on and on and on and on-

"Hello?" The heavily accented voice is feminine. 

"Uh, hello?" Had he dialed the wrong number?

"Victor? That's you right?" The voice sounded disinterested and gravelly. 

"Mari?"

"Yeah, it's me."

"Where's Yuuri? Can I talk to him?"

A pause. Victor think his heart will give out any moment.

"He, uh. Hm." she seems to contemplate his request a moment. "Maybe I shouldn’t have answered."

"Yuuri doesn’t want to speak to me?" he asks weakly. He didn’t want it to be true.

"Oh God, I've never seen someone jump to conclusions as fast as you. It's not that he doesn't want to. More like he can't. Not right now."

"What does that even mean?" he pleads.

"He didn’t want me to tell you. Said you'd worry too much, which I've come to find out is absolutely true-"

"Tell me _what?"_

"Yuuri was admitted to the hospital a couple days ago. Which is why you haven't heard from him. Don't worry, your dog is okay. The doctor's actually allowed him in for some reason so he's actually laying there with my brother-"

"What happened?" Victor feels goosebumps cover his skin from head to toe, and the cold that sets into his bones is no longer from the rink air.

"You interrupt a lot." she sighed, and he could hear the exhaustion in her voice. "It's happened before. He'll refuse to sleep for awhile, forget to eat in his weird daze. A family friend found him passed out under all those willows by Main Street. It took us awhile to find his phone in the dirt where he fell, so forgive him for his lack of communication."

"He's okay?"

"He's dehydrated, so they have him hooked up to an IV, and they gave him something to help him sleep. But he's okay."

Victor slides down to the floor in relief and he exhales.

Mari chuckles. "Thanks for worrying about my brother. He can be stubborn."

Victor can only chuckle tiredly in return.

"Here, I'll send you something nice for your troubles."

Victor's phone vibrates and he looks down to see a picture message from Yuuri's number.

"I took that before he fell back asleep. He demanded we wake him up. He doesn’t make many demands so, you know."

Victor hardly hears her. He's staring down at the picture until it becomes blurry. Tears are welling up and he can't help but let a few tumble silently from his lashes. 

A pale, disheveled Yuuri with tubes hooked up to his arms, wrapped in a multitude of faded hospital blankets was glued to the tv in his room. Though his body sagged with exhaustion, his gaze was fixed and determined; his object of focus Victor, whose flashy costume was unmistakable on the screen.

"When Yuuri wakes up, I'll tell him you called."

"He'll be upset that you told me." Victor sniffs.

"He'll feel better once he talks to you anyway."

Victor could hear murmuring voices on the other line.

"Look, I've gotta go. But, your dog's okay, your performance was okay, and your boyfriend is okay-"

"My what?"

"Good luck tomorrow. Bye!"

Victor lets his phone fall to the floor as he rubs his temples.

Yuuri wasn't angry with him. Yuuri wasn't giving him the cold shoulder. The only thing that prevented him from speaking to Victor was his hospitalization, and even _that_ didn’t prevent him from watching Victor's short program.

Victor felt he didn’t deserve him. Whatever good deed he'd done that warranted such a blessing be dropped so unexpectedly in his life, he'd wish he'd done it sooner.

For now, he'd have to wait for Yuuri's call.

He'd wait forever if he must.

Yuri's voice drifted through his mind.

_"Victor, are you in love with this guy?"_

Undeniably and hopelessly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Victor's short program is based off of Old Skin by Olafur Arnalds.
> 
> 3 chapters in one night, I'm tired. But hopefully you aren't tired of this story<3


	10. Careful Spontaneity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You want to go on a date? With _me?"_

Victor stares at himself in the full length mirror blankly. His snow white costume was disfigured by gray and black handprints, some faded and others glaringly smeared all over his body until the whole ensemble faded to black near his calves. One handprint wrapped around his throat dangerously. It was the least flashy costume he'd ever chosen by far.

He'd told the press and all of his fans that it was a stylistic choice; the handprints symbolizing the defilement of a pure being, and he hadn't lied exactly. But what he really felt was that the being was him. He'd been a pure performer before, just a boy who loved to express his emotions on ice. Along the way, he could feel the pressure building with each podium placement, the expectations of others slowly smothering him as time progressed. He'd called and called for some reassurance or companionship, and no one would answer. He exhaled.

"Victor, it's time for the ceremony." A short woman smiled at him from the entrance as she held out his obligatory bouquet. He nodded once and gave her a polite smile as he accepted the flowers and followed her to the rink.

The roar of the crowd must have been deafening, but to Victor, all was silent. He could see the rabid, waving fans and the podium looming in front of him, but he felt nothing. He wishes he was anywhere else.

He wishes he was with Yuuri.

He carefully trudged up to his position on the podium.

_"Congrats to our bronze medalist…"_

The words echoed far away. He keeps his smile plastered to his face.

_"…our silver medalist!"_

More wailing, more clapping.

_"…for winning gold!"_

He waves to the audience and turns to shake hands with his competitors. He's fairly sure one of them says "See you at the Grand Prix Finals!" and he nods in agreement. 

He skates off the ice and exhaustion begins to set into his bones. Thankfully, the Rostelecom Cup had come to a close.

He changes out of his costume and goes to meet his rinkmates. He smiles for pictures and waves at fans. His phone vibrates, but he shrugs it off. Probably just another Instagram post.

Georgi and Mila ask him to dinner to celebrate; he declines politely with some comment about wanting to sleep for three years before they start up practice again.

Everything is just so _dreary._

His pocket vibrates again and he's about ready to throw the damn phone against the nearest wall-

He blinks.

Four missed calls from "Yuuri<3."

He chokes and slams his hotel room door close before pressing the call button. His hands were shaking-shaking? He laughed nervously.

"Hello?" 

The cold wall inside Victor's mind seemed to dissolve then, and he slumped into the couch. The voice was small and weak, but it was Yuuri's.

"Hey." he said softly. "How do you feel?"

"I-I'm sorry. Are you mad? I really was going to call and wish you good luck before your short program but I-"

"Yuuri," he lilted. 

"I'm sorry…" Yuuri sighed into the phone shakily.

"You have nothing to apologize for, Мой подсолнечника."

"I'm usually better at taking of myself, I swear. I didn't want to worry you." 

Victor swallowed slowly. He wished Yuuri would let him worry about him. He said as much.

"I just don’t want to d-distract you. From your career."

"Oh, Yuuri." he breathed. "You distract me from _everything."_ He's sure Yuuri choked on the other line. 

He waits patiently for Yuuri's response and is taken aback when Yuuri whispers, "I wish you were here."

He's even more surprised when he finds himself uttering "I wish I was there too. More than anything."

Yuuri's pleasant hum of agreement reverberates through his bones.

"But, you never answered. How do you feel?" Victor pushed gently.

"I-I'm alright, Victor. I promise. They want to do a sleep study, to see why my brain won't shut off to let me sleep. I really couldn’t tell them it was because a six car pile-up was going to shut down a highway for three days." he laughed weakly. 

Victor's mouth set into a grim line. "When did you have that dream?"

"The night before your short program, I think. But I couldn’t find my phone to uh, text you." 

"That's a big one, Yuuri."

"One I can't do anything about."

"Yuuri-"

"I know I can't save everyone." he's voice was watery.

"You’ve saved _me."_ Victor spoke quietly.

"Not yet, I haven't." 

Victor chuckled. _Wrong._

"I'm being released tomorrow after the study is complete. Don't worry, Makkachin has been well taken care of. Like I promised." 

"Yuuri, I had no doubts." He grinned.

"What happens next? You have one more qualifier in two weeks and then the GPF a few weeks after that." Yuuri asked curiously.

"I'll train in Russia during that time, and head to Barcelona for the finals from there." Victor explained slowly.

"Oh." 

That one syllable was almost enough to get Victor to retire.

"It'll be over soon though!" Victor reasons half-heartedly.

"Not soon enough." Yuuri mumbles, and Victor's sure he's imagined it.

Something snaps inside of him.

"Yuuri, I have to go. I'll talk to you as soon as I can."

"Sure. Be safe, Victor." Yuuri's melancholic tone nearly tears his heart in two.

"Of course. Anything for you, Мой подсолнечника. Sweet dreams."

\-------------------------------------------

"According to the results, you brain function is completely normal in relation to your sleep patterns. However, it's once you enter into your REM cycles where things get hairy." A big-bellied doctor sat at the foot of Yuuri's hospital bed scratching his beard. His beady eyes were kind despite their tendency to squint. "Your REM cycles start off normal, but after a few minutes, your mind jerks itself awake. It's abrupt, to say the least."

He turns to look Yuuri up and down. "Do you have nightmares?" 

Yuuri laughs nervously. "You could say that."

The doctor nods then, and scribbles something on his note pad. "Here's a prescription for something that'll help you sleep. You'll have to follow up with a psychiatrist though, for specialized treatment. And make sure you eat, too." He smiles and shakes Yuuri's hand. "I'll have the nurse bring you your discharge papers and you'll be good to go!"

Yuuri thanks him and waits for him to close the door before pulling out his phone. He dials Mari's number.

"Hey, squirt."

He chuckles. "Don't call me that."

"Sure sure. What's up?"

"They're getting me discharge papers now, could you or mom come pick me up? I'd get a taxi but I still feel kind of…weird." He'd been on edge since waking up to find himself no longer under the willows with Makkachin and instead in a cold, white room.

"Yeah." A pause. "Someone will be there soon to pick you up. Hold tight."

"Thanks." he grumbles as he hangs up and reaches for his clothes the nurse had left in the chair beside him. She had left them nicely folded when she came to remove his IV a few minutes earlier.

He shrugged on his jeans and slipped his emerald green shirt over his head, careful to avoid the bandage that covered the bend in his elbow. He signs the discharge papers when the nurse brings them to him and he gathers the few belongings his family had brought him in his bag before exiting the room.

Yuuri sluggishly enters the elevator, and waits for it to make its stops on each floor down until it reaches the lobby. He nods to the nurses in bright scrubs at the nurse's station and glides through the automatic doors out into the air. 

He inhales deeply, thankful for fresh air and not the stagnant hospital air that's seemingly permeated his skin. He sits down on a bench and waits. Hopefully Mari wouldn't be long.

Soon enough, he hears the rapid clap of shoes on the sidewalk to his left. He laughs lightly.

"Mari, you really didn't have to run-" he chokes.

"What are you- _Victor?"_ Yuuri's sure he must have died in the hospital.

Victor's chest is heaving with exertion and sweat gleans on his forehead, but his smile is vibrant and welcoming and its full force is pinned on Yuuri.

 _"Yuuri~"_ he breaths. And then he tilts his head back and laughs. "I feel like I haven't seen you in ages." He stoops to wrap his arms around Yuuri's shoulders tightly before pulling away.

Yuuri remains rooted to his seat, his mouth gaping and confusion and surprise crinkling his eyebrows. "But you-and Russia-and the GPF-"

"I'm only here until tomorrow afternoon. But I wanted _-had-_ to see you." Victor kneels in front of him and looks up at him fondly. 

"You look tired." Yuuri squeaks, and his cheeks flush. Smooth, Yuuri.

"I am tired, yes. You look so, too." Victor gently traces the pad of his thumb across Yuuri's cheek, and Victor wonders if he realizes that he's instinctively leaned into Victor's hand.

"But, I'm hoping that maybe there's a small part of you that isn't too tired to go on a date?" Victor holds his breath. He'd been building up the courage to actually ask Yuuri out the whole flight and he was proud of himself for executing without fumbling through it messily.

Yuuri's eyes roamed his face, his eyes wide. "You want to go on a date? With _me?"_ he asked incredulously.

"I want you to go on a date, with me. Yes." 

Yuuri looks away. "You've come all this way to ask that? I told you, all I do is distract you from-"

Victor holds a hand up to silence him. "Yuuri, I will retire _right here_ if you do not agree to go on one date with me."

Yuuri's eyes snap back to him. "Bribery, Nikiforov?"

"If that's what it takes."

A grin breaks out across Yuuri's face. "You're too much."

"I admit it."

Victor waits patiently as many thoughts seem to flit across Yuuri's face rapidly, but he seems to decide soon enough because he's nodding slowly and a shy smile is spreading across his lips.

Victor has to steel himself because he's about ready to jump for joy; instead he stands and takes Yuuri's bag for him. "I'll take you home first, you probably want a shower."

"More like five." Yuuri grumbles and stands as well.

They walk in pleasant silence for a few minutes before Yuuri clears his throat. "What was with your free skate?"

Victor froze.

"Your quadruple salchow in the second half was shaky and the toe loop right after it was downright atrocious." 

"Yuuri-" he groaned.

"I was just surprised, that's all." Yuuri's eyes glinted mischievously. "Victor Nikiforov gets _silver_ medal at the Rostelecom Cup. How unusual." 

Victor is left staring at Yuuri's back as he continues on. He smiles fondly. "I was distracted."

"What?" 

"I said, I'll do better next time, _Coach Yuuri~"_ he purrs.

Yuuri tilts his head back and laughs and Victor is positive that if Yuuri's laugh was a drink, he'd surely be an alcoholic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I imagine Victor's free skate to something like "The Hymn of Acxiom" by Vienna Teng.  
> Also, I like to think that Victor absolutely _adores_ saying Yuuri's name, hence his excessive use of it.  
>  I tend to post multiple chapters at a time because I feel like they're too similar to post alone but too different to group together in the same chapter.  
> When I thought of this story, it was never supposed to end up this long...  
> Thanks for sticking around!


	11. Date and Wait

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Semi-Mature content**
> 
> "Anything would have been special to me. I could have kissed you the day I saw you barefoot and wandering."

Victor sits at the table that he had sat at the day after he'd met Yuuri in his family's onsen, and Mari smirks at him as she places a cup of tea in front of him. His leg is bouncing anxiously and Makkachin is lying with his head in Victor's lap.

"Thanks for picking up my brother." Her eyes glint mischievously, and Victor thinks he may finally see some sort of resemblance between the siblings.

"Thanks for going along with it." he exhales.

"I was surprised when you showed up this morning. You were just on international tv last night, and then you just magically appear. Here. Where Yuuri is." She eyes him from head to toe. "What do you plan on doing today?"

He inhales sharply and slams his head against the table. "I haven't gotten that far in my plan." he grumbled.

She's laughing at him then, and he frowns in return.

She waves him off. "Yuuri really likes to dance."

Victor raises his head and stares at her suspiciously. "Why are you helping me?"

She gives him a real smile and her expression relaxes. "Anything that makes Yuuri happy is fine by me. And if that thing is you, then, you're fine by me too."

She hands him a piece of paper and the smirk returns. "That’s my number if you ever need to know anything Yuuri-related." She stands to leave, but pauses at the doorway. "Or if you just ever need anything at all-oh hey, squirt. You look dapper." 

There's a groan in response and Yuuri appears just as Mari leaves, and he looks _ethereal._

His long-sleeved white shirt hugged his torso nicely, and his dark jeans accentuated other _assets_ Victor shouldn't be focusing on currently. His hair was still damp but it was pushed slightly back away from his face and his blue glasses perched on his nose. 

"Yuuri-" Victor breathed as he stood. "You're _beautiful."_

Yuuri flushed and began fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. "I don’t look too different from how I normally do." he mumbled.

Victor glided over to him and pulled him close. _"Exactly."_ He inhaled Yuuri's peachy scent deeply and sighed. 

Victor forgets that time is ticking as he stands there holding Yuuri and he begrudgingly pulls away and begin steering him out of the onsen.

"Please forgive me, I really don't have much planned. I just jumped on a plane and-"

Yuuri's laughing now. Loudly. 

"What?" Victor frowns.

"It's just, so like you." 

He deflates. "Is that bad?"

Yuuri shakes his head. "No, because I like how _you_ you are." 

Victor can't seem to catch his breath, and he reaches tentatively for Yuuri's hand. "Is this okay?"

Yuuri's response is to easily weave his fingers into Victor's. "You're crazy for leaving mid-season."

"Maybe."

Victor tries to keep his composure but in reality his mind is swirling a hundred different directions and his knees feel wobbly and he's hoping that Yuuri is feeling a fraction of this pure vulnerability-

"Victor?" Yuuri's concerned voice pulls him from his reverie. "Are you sure you're up for this? We can relax somewhere and watch a movie or-"

"Let's dance." Victor beams. 

"Excuse me?" Yuuri's brows crinkle and Victor actually reaches up with his free hand to smooth them.

"I want to dance." 

Yuuri looks ahead, concentrating, and then nods slowly. "There's a sort of club not too far from here, and it shouldn’t be crowded today. If you want."

"Do you want to go?" Victor asks.

"Sure." Yuuri smiles up at him. "I-I like dancing."

_Thank you, Mari._

_________________________________

Yuuri might have mentioned liking to dance, but he never mentioned how _good_ he was at it. The "club" Yuuri had brought him to was classy with a ballroom type feel. The music was low and seductive one moment, and upbeat and cheerful the next. He liked it.

He liked it even more when Yuuri had grabbed him by the hand (after a few glasses of something very, _very_ strong) and pulled him to the dance floor, whisking him around in a lively waltz. 

Victor had never been led before, but he was never more sure in his life that he'd rather follow anyone else.

Yuuri is twirling him in circles for a tango one moment and rubbing against him the next for a rumba and Victor can feel himself spiraling and he doesn't care enough to hold onto his sanity nor the walls he's built.

"Don't worry, I won't drop you!" Yuuri laughs as he dips Victor.

"I've already fallen." Victor responds breathlessly, but it's lost in the rhythm of the music. 

An eternity later, Victor and Yuuri are stumbling out of the club, giggling and breathing hard. They start towards the boardwalk. Victor sees an ice cream vendor and, remembering Yuuri's sweet tooth, tells him to wait while he grabs him something.

He returns a moment later with two cones and a goofy smile on his face.

"Yuuri, which one do you want?"

Yuuri chuckles. "Which ever one you don't want."

Victor frowned. "I want you to pick the one you want the most."

Yuuri's eyes gleam feverishly as his lips twitch into a shy grin. "O-okay."

Time freezes. Victor knows, on some plane of consciousness, that it really hasn't. But his body is stone and his mind is dissolving as Yuuri leans in and brushes feather-soft lips against his.

He couldn’t _believe_ that Yuuri was beating him to the punch.

"I'll take t-this one." he stutters and snatches the ice cream in Victor's right hand before turning quickly and speeding off.

Victor stumbles after him down to the beach and whines. "Yuuri, that's not fair. I was holding off because I wanted you to remember it." 

Yuuri peeks at him over his shoulder. "You thought I was drunk?"

"I'm from Russia Yuuri, and even I thought that what you were drinking was potent." he chides.

"It would take _a lot_ more than that to get me drunk." Yuuri smiles.

"Dually noted."

Yuuri licks at his ice cream thoughtfully for a moment as he waits for Victor to catch up. 

"You were waiting?"

Victor flushed. "Well yeah. I wanted it to be special for you, I guess."

"Special for me? What about _you?"_ Yuuri asks quietly.

"Anything would have been special to me. I could have kissed you the day I saw you barefoot and wandering." Victor admits, and curses his mind for still shorting out around Yuuri.

Yuuri chokes and plops down in the sand. Victor joins him, but Yuuri won’t look at him. "Yuuri~"

"Sorry, I'm just not used to this." he mumbles.

Victor laughs. "Me neither."

"I-I don’t want you to feel constrained when you're around me. I want you to do what makes you happy-"

Victor grabs Yuuri's wrist, careful to avoid the ice cream and pulls him closer as their lips meet again. It's deeper than before, and Yuuri's cold lips sends shivers through him. After a moment, Yuuri sighs into the kiss and he drops the cone in order to shift his shoulders and face Victor full on.

As fireworks explode inside his chest, Victor's fingers curl to cup around Yuuri's cheek gently. He wants _more._

Tentatively he bites Yuuri's bottom lip and is pleasantly surprised when Yuuri softly moans and pulls away slightly. Victor pulls him by the wrist a little more forcefully until he's in his lap and Yuuri acquiesces. 

"Let me know if there's anything you don't like, okay?" Victor tells him. Yuuri nods as Victor captures his mouth again, this time tracing his bottom lip with his tongue, enticing Yuuri's out.

The moment their tongues meet in a fiery dance, Victor feels a dam within himself break and a wave of repressed emotion crash down on him. But this time, it wasn’t frightening.

It was _thrilling._

Yuuri's forearms perch on his shoulders and his hands knead circles into Yuuri's hips and Victor sighs his name into his mouth.

Victor slowly kisses down Yuuri's jaw and pauses at his throat. He sucks gently for moment, and can feel Yuuri tense as he inhales sharply between his teeth. He bites the same spot and is rewarded as Yuuri growls.

"Victor- _ah!"_

His hands tangle in Victor's grey hair and tug, and Victor can feel any of his remaining free will get pulled along with it.

His hands slide under the hem of Yuuri's shirt and he hums in satisfaction at the smooth, burning skin. He trails his fingers along his sides before sliding one up Yuuri's spine. Yuuri shivers and moans once more.

"Your fingers are cold." Yuuri gazes down at him through half-lidded eyes.

"Sorry." Victor mumbles, and their mouths are crashing together again in a symphony of sighs and nibbles.

He tries to ignore the bulge in his pants, and the equally aroused bulge that grinds against him with every gentle suckle.

Yuuri pulls away slowly, and Victor can't help but stare at his reddened, plump lips. 

"I-I'm sorry Victor. Would you be upset if we stopped? I think I overdid it with the dancing and drinking. My head is fuzzy." he said quietly.

"Of course, Yuuri." Victor swiped Yuuri's bangs from his forehead and kissed the tip of his nose. "We can lie here until you feel a little better and then we can walk back."

Yuuri nods. Victor pulls him with him as he lays back on the sand, and Yuuri nuzzles into the crook of his neck.

"Thank you."

"For what?" Victor inquires as he soothingly begins to draw circles on Yuuri's back.

"Understanding." 

Victor smiles as he glances up at the stars. 

"Anything for you, Мой подсолнечника."

___________________________________

Victor stares at Yuuri fondly as he fusses over him.

"You have your ticket right? And your coat? Did you forget anything?"

"Yuuri-"

"I'm just making sure. And you promise you won't push yourself too hard?"

"I promise."

Yuuri nods hesitantly. "O-okay then."

"You'll text me every day?"

Yuuri laughs. "Sure."

Victor's eyes grow serious. "Will you wait for me?"

Yuuri freezes. "What?"

Victor entwines their hands gingerly. "I won't ask you anything complicated now, or force you into anything. I know you'll say that you're a distraction, especially midseason. Even though I don't think that, I'll respect it." He inhales shakily. "So, will you wait for me? Until I return?"

Yuuri searches his face for a moment before sighing. He gazed up at him through his dark lashes. "I-I will."

His smile is so wide it hurts his cheeks.

"I still expect the most of you. No more fumbling toe loops." Victor chuckles in response.

His heart deflates as his flight is called overhead.

Yuuri adjusts his jacket for him and sighs. "That's your cue."

Victor pulls him to his chest tightly and releases him much too soon. "Bye, Yuuri." he smiles sadly and turns to go.

Yuuri watches him take a few steps toward the gate before he pauses, turns on his heel and rushes back to him.

He rolls his eyes. "What'd you forget?"

Victor grabs him by the collar and smashes their mouths together haphazardly at first, laughs, and then slowly presses their lips together again.

"That." he sighs and reaches for Yuuri's hand. He turns it over and presses a chaste kiss to the inside of his wrist.

"Wait for me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I try to write from both of their perspectives, but I lean toward Victor's more. I just love stories that show Victor's descent into love having avoided it so long. My apologies!
> 
> I had marked this story as mature/explicit when I started out because there will be juicy parts soon enough. Also, I'd love feedback on this one especially because I have not much practice with writing those kind of *situations*
> 
> Thanks<3


	12. Snapshot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Surprisingly, Yuuri likes games.

The first few days Victor is gone is rough.

Not because of the detachment. While that is difficult, the hardest hurdle to overcome is communication.

Their time zones are different, and Victor's rigorous schedule leaves little time for them to communicate. Victor feels guilty that the only time he can talk to Yuuri is in the middle of the night where Yuuri is, so Yuuri comes up with a solution much to Victor's surprise.

He calls the game Snapshot.

He lays the rules out simply enough. At any given time, one of them can text the word "Snapshot," and the receiver must send a picture of the exact thing they're doing in the moment. 

Victor adores it.

The first day they play, Victor must have text him the word hundreds of times; Yuuri has to gently remind him that he can't possibly take pictures of everything. Victor whines, but eventually concedes defeat.

The first picture Yuuri sends him is of his feet tucked into the sand and Makkachin splashing along the shore in the distance. Victor laughs out loud, drawing the attention of Yakov who quickly berates him for taking such a long break. He begrudgingly puts his phone away and returns to the ice after slamming Yuuri with a barrage of hearts.

______________________

Victor texts him again one day while Yuuri is watching the triplets. He takes a picture of the three of them in skates trying their hardest to balance on the ice. 

Victor asks him why he's with them, and Yuuri has to explain that, on days when Yuuko is busy running the Ice Castle, he has to step in and help some of the kids learn how to skate. 

"I like to do it," Yuuri explains. "It's like, skating in it's purest form."

Victor swoons.

___________________________

Yuuri is picking at a sandwich another day when he decides to send Victor "Snapshot!" Mari pokes her head in a moment later with a disproving frown set on her lips. 

"You need to eat more." She pushes.

"I'm trying." Yuuri sighs as he rests his chin upon his hand. He takes a small bite and directs a pointed look her way just to please her and it must have, as she's gone just as quickly as she appeared.

Yuuri doesn't get a response as quickly as he'd hoped, but an hour later he's jumping at the sudden vibration of his phone after having dozed off. He opens the picture and snickers. Victor had captured Yurio in a vicious side hug and was laughing. Yuuri smiled to himself when he noticed the golden pin that glinted from his shirt collar.

____________________________________________________________

Victor wakes with a start when his phone buzzes right near his face. He squints as he reads the text. He sits up and rubs his eyes sleepily as he presses "call." The phone only rings twice before Yuuri's tentative voice answers.

"Hey." 

"Yuuri, what's wrong?"

"Why would something be wrong? I was just playing the game." Yuuri laughs hesitantly.

"Yuuri it's a quarter to five where you are." Victor sighs. "You don't have to have a premise to call me, you know. You can call whenever."

"I-I know that." Yuuri's voice was suddenly muffled. "You know, you'll lose the game if you don't take the picture."

Victor laughs, but sends a grainy picture of him hugging a pillow anyway.

Yuuri laughs quietly too when he receives it, and then he sighs.

"I went to see someone today." he mumbles.

"Someone?" Victor's body tenses.

"Yeah..oh! Oh, not like that!" Yuuri must have sensed it, and Victor laughs at himself for being so foolish. "I saw a psychiatrist."

_Oh._

"How did it go?" Victor asks gently, knowing his trepidations regarding seeking help.

"It went okay, I guess. He asked me to start keeping a journal of my dreams to analyze when we meet. He thinks that my overactive anxiety manifests itself in my dreams as well."

"That's not news to you though. That's not what has you upset." Victor pushes a little more.

"I…he gave me medication."

Victor stilled. 

"He gave me something to sleep. Something strong. But I don’t want to take it-"

"Yuuri." Victor's voice was stern. "You are no less of a person because you have to take medication."

He whimpers, but Victor pushes on anyway. 

"No one shames a diabetic for having to use insulin. No one is going to shame you for taking something to help you sleep. The difference in the conditions is that your is not clearly visible to others, which may make you feel isolated. But you aren't alone Yuuri, and it's perfectly okay to take the medication."

He finishes softly and waits for a response, but can only hear the sound of what he believes to be Makkachin's whining on the other line.

"I may be able to see the future, but sometimes I believe you've the ability to read minds." Yuuri's voice is shaking and Victor can feel his throat close painfully.

"I j-just don't want to fall asleep and see these, these images, and not be able to wake myself up. I don’t want to be trapped."

"I'm proud of you for going to get help. You're amazing." Victor smiles to himself softly. "The last qualifier is in two days and after that, the GPF. And as soon as that is over, Yuuri, I promise you," he inhales deeply. "I promise, that I'll be the one to wake you up. You won't have to be so scared anymore."

Victor is sure he hears a sniffle and is about ready to apologize when Yuuri laughs weakly. "Is that a promise?"

"It's an oath."

_________________________________

Victor wins the gold medal at his last qualifier and progresses to the GPF. Yuuri watches with amusement as a reporter blasts him with questions.

"Victor, you've been off the map the entire preseason and then here you are with such beautifully crafted programs and I've just got to ask the question that has been on everyone's mind: Where exactly have you _been?"_

Yuuri notices the way Victor's eyes glint mischievously as he smiles politely at the reporter. "I've been in a beautiful place," his smile softens. "But the people there are the ones that have made it feel even more welcoming."

"And that place is?" 

"You couldn't pry it from lips no matter how hard you tried." Victor laughs and the interview shifts to another skater.

Yuuri sighs. Three more weeks until the GPF. 

Only three more weeks until the knot inside his chest dissolved and the incessant helplessness he felt dissipated.

He felt his phone vibrate and smiled. He snapped a photo of the TV and the skater coverage. He was surprised by Victor's immediate response.

"Yuuuri, you always send me pictures of your surroundings, but I want to see you."

He could feel his ears heat up. Tentatively he turned so the TV was behind him and snapped a photo of him smiling with a thumbs up. 

Victor texted him four pages of exclamation points.

______________________________________

"You're leaving for the GPF today, right? That's exciting." Yuuri tucks his phone between his ear and shoulder as he continues gliding slowly along the ice.

"I board the plane in about an hour. I'll have dinner with the other skaters tonight." Victor's smile is evident in his voice. "You'll watch, right? No matter what?"

Yuuri chuckles. "Haven't I always?"

"I'm just checking."

"You'll spend tomorrow practicing?"

"Yes. Tomorrow is practice and adding the last touches to my programs, and the next day is the short program performance." 

Yuuri inhales as he turns and glides backwards. In just a few days, it would all be over. A nagging voice pierced through his brain: _have you done enough?_

Victor pulled him from his reverie. "Yuuri?"

"Ay, yes, I'm here-"

"Don't worry, I'll be careful. Like always."

Yuuri exhales. 

"Can you tell me yet?"

"I want to tell you." Yuuri mumbles. Really, he did want to divulge the dream after having locked it away in his mind for so long. But any time he tried to utter it, a bleak wall of fear stippled with thorns of doubt threatened to collapse upon him. It took all of his resolve not to let himself crumble beneath it.

"It's okay if you can't." Victor reassured. 

"Sorry." Yuuri swallowed thickly. 

"My taxi is here, Yuuri. I'll text you when I land." 

"Y-yeah. Be safe."

Yuuri plopped down on the ice and groaned. He wished he didn’t find himself paralyzed in these moments. Victor was warm and understanding and always reached out to him. Yuuri sat up.

Maybe he could reach out to him, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments water my crops and feed my family.<3


	13. Good Friends and Bad Landings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"Maybe he wants you to fail."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Depictions of Injuries.

"Victor." a deep voice purrs from behind, but he doesn't have to turn around to know exactly who it belongs to.

"Chris," he turned and smiled, a genuine one that he saved for his friends. "It's been too long."

Chris hugged him tightly and smirked. "Maybe if you hadn't disappeared…"

Victor chuckled as Chris began steering him into the restaurant. 

"Barcelona never fails to amaze, does it?" Victor spoke quietly as he took in the glimmering lights that bounced off the high windows and illuminated the puddles in the street.

"If you had booked an earlier flight, we could have explored a little more." Chris pouted.

"Maybe so." Victor winked.

"Ah, there they are."

Victor looked up at the familiar faces that chatted excitedly to one another under the lanterns that festooned the walls of the pub. They had gotten a nice table facing a window that looked out on the street and city. Picturesque, Victor thought.

He waved as he approached the long table. Yurio glanced up at him with a snarl while Mila and Georgi nodded in his direction before reengaging two skaters he recognized from Italy in conversation. "Sara, Michele. Nice to see you." he grinned. 

He turned toward a dark skinned man who was showing JJ and Otabek- the one who'd placed first at the Rostelecom Cup- pictures on his phone. Victor exchanged nods with the silent one, and shakes hands with JJ. 

"This is the year, Nikiforov. You're going down." JJ snickered.

"We'll see." Victor laughed in response, but jumped suddenly. The stranger had leaned forward to stare at him.

"Oh my…you're Victor Nikiforov!" he gushed and turned to take a picture with him, which Victor was not prepared for. Was this guy even a skater?

"This is Phichit." Chris laughed. "This is his first year out of the junior division. He's from Thailand."

"Nice to meet you." Somehow he felt that he meant it. 

"So, who wants a drink?" Chris boomed. "First round is on me."

_____________________________________________

Victor was set on only participating in one round.

Chris is more convincing than he ought to be.

His head feels blurry and his body feels heated and flushed but he's having fun gossiping about their sport and talking about their daily lives.

The only thing that would make the night any better would be-

Yuuri's name pops up on his phone. 

_"Snapshot?"_

He smiles to himself as he clumsily takes a photo of the towers that stood outside the window and sends it to Yuuri. He tosses the phone back on the table just as JJ is reenacting one of his moves from his free skate program and knocks over a few drinks.

"Hey!"

"Watch it!"

"What the-"

Chris swiftly saves his phone from frying. "JJ, if you continue to spill drinks every year, we'll have to stop inviting you-"

He freezes, his eyes staring at Victor's phone. More accurately, his screensaver.

"What, did it get wet?" Victor's brows knit in concern as he reaches for his phone.

"No, no. It's not wet. Victor," Chris looks up at him. "When you said you'd met a guy, I didn’t know that guy was Yuuri Katsuki."

Victor stills.

"You know Yuuri?" Phichit is leaning forward again with that silly smile that even glinted in his eyes.

"I, yes. But how do you guys know Yuuri?" 

"Hey, I know that pig too." Yurio pipes up and crosses his arms. "That's the weirdo you've been gushing about?"

"What?" Victor's head was swimming now, from alcohol or confusion, he couldn’t tell.

"Yeah, I competed against him in the Junior division for a couple of years." Yurio paused. "Complete powerhouse." he mumbled.

"Yuuri is amazing! I adore him." Phichit rested his chin on his palm. "We roomed and trained together in Detroit for a couple of years."

Chris nodded. "He was known for his ungodly stamina. He put a majority of his leaps toward the end of his programs. Won three golds in that division. Don't you remember?" 

Victor shook his head. "Remember what?"

"His first year in our division was two years ago. He made headlines because everyone thought he was going to be the one to strip you of your title."

"I finally got the gold medal instead of silver when he left. But I was looking forward to defeating him in the big league." Yurio growled.

"Why does it look like all this information surprises you?" Chris inquired. 

Victor took his phone back and typed "snapshot" half-mindedly.

"Because I had no clue." Victor mumbles. 

Why hadn't Yuuri told him? No wonder he looked so at ease on skates, or why he was trusted to teach the triplets how to skate. He'd had experience. Loads of it.

None of which was made apparent to Victor.

"I would have remembered if someone that prolific was gunning for gold." Victor ran a hand through his hair.

"Yuuri probably didn’t tell you because of his...departure." Phichit's eyes had grown dark as he sighed.

"Poor bastard never made it past the first qualifier." Yurio grunted.

"Watch your mouth." Mila grumbled as she smacked his arm.

"Yeah, it was brutal. I remember how quiet the rink was." Chris breathed. 

"I'm not following." Victor shook his head.

Phichit began tapping furiously at his phone. A moment later he handed it and a pair of headphones to Victor.

"Please use the headphones, I don’t think I could ever hear it again." 

Victor noticed the way everyone at the table seemed to squirm, but Chris slid his arm around his shoulders and decided to watch the video Phichit had pulled up with him.

He pressed play.

Yuuri's slim figure began swaying across the tiny screen, his arms outstretched one moment and pulled close the next. The program was exquisite, to say the least. Victor could see just how correct everyone was to think that this underdog was coming for his title. 

He would have gladly handed it over had he seen this.

But something was wrong. Yuuri had become wobbly after his first two jumps, but the program was almost over. 

The end never came.

Yuuri went into the air on his last leap with enough momentum and beautiful position but the landing-

Victor felt Chris flinch beside him and his own hand flew to his mouth in shock.

Yuuri had come down perfectly enough, but the blade on his right skate snapped.

And so did his leg.

The rink gasped in horror, and a disoriented Yuuri had tried to stand before crying out in agony, not realizing his leg was bent at a grotesque angle.

_"I have a bum leg."_

"Yuuri Katsuki is down!"

"It's over for him!"

Victor ripped the headphones from his ears and heaved.

"I remember seeing that." Michele piped up as he took a sip of his water. "Him trying to stand after it happened. It was sad."

"Why wouldn’t he tell you though?" Yurio asked after a pause. "That seems kind of weird."

"Maybe he wants you to fail." JJ shrugged.

"What?" Victor's expression hardened.

"I'm just saying, you got silver at your first qualifier and no one knows where you stand now. You've never had a shaky start until this year. When you met Yuuri Katsuki." he placed his cup down and leaned forward. "Maybe, since he couldn't beat you on the ice due to his injury, he thought he'd distract you to prevent another win. Make sure you wouldn't get another gold, no matter what it took." 

The table lapsed into silence.

"Let's lighten the mood a little." Sara squeaks.

"Yeah, another round?" Chris purrs once more. Soon enough, the laughter and smiles from before resume, but Victor can't ignore JJ's jeering voice in his head.

_"Maybe he wants you to fail."_

His phone vibrates, and he opens the picture message. 

His brows knit in confusion. It’s a picture of him, just on the other side of a window-

Victor looks up quickly and sees a raven-haired, pale man waving at him shyly, and he knew that behind the scarf tied around his mouth and neck, there was a smile waiting for him.

A smile wasn't what he wanted right now.

It was answers.

He stands. "I'll return in a moment."

He briskly makes his way to the street.

Yuuri pulls the scarf from his face and smiles. "Victor-"

"I didn’t know you skated. Professionally." 

Yuuri pales.

"I-I..what?"

"Three golds in the junior division, huh?"

Victor can hear just how cold his voice is, but he can’t stop it. Not now.

"What was your dream Yuuri?"

Yuuri is biting his lip now. "I c-can't tell you-"

"Did you even have a dream about me Yuuri? Or was it just a ruse to get me distracted, so that I wouldn't win-"

"You're drunk." Yuuri squeaked.

"You're not answering my questions. You're not explaining yourself." Victor shakes his head.

"Victor, I would never try to purposefully harm your career." his voice is shaking even more now.

"I could understand why you'd want to, considering the way yours ended."

Yuuri's lip quivered as he inhaled sharply.

"You're serious? You seriously believe that?"

Victor shrugged. "You've never explained anything."

Yuuri is laughing coldly now, something sharp and strained, very unlike the airy wind chimes Victor had come to adore. He's dropped his backpack from his shoulder now and searching for something. He pulls out a journal before savagely ripping a page out and crumpling it into a ball.

He throws it at him and begins to swipe at the scalding tears that streak down his windblown cheeks.

"There's your explanation. There's what you've wanted to hear, okay? I won't do this anymore. I won't be here to ruin your career, or steal the gold from you. I'll disappear, and you won't have to worry." His chestnut eyes bore into his. "Good luck, Victor."

He turns on his heel and begins to walk away. He pauses. Without turning around, he whimpers "be safe."

Victor stares after him a moment before stooping to pick up the crumbled ball of paper. He gingerly opens it and begins reading Yuuri's choppy handwriting.

_"Free program. GPF. Victor goes on last. That's good. Victor is exhausted. That's bad. Why doesn’t he seem to care anymore? His face is worn, and his demeanor weary. Not the Victor that's skated here before._

_The start is good, but where's his drive? His motivation is gone. He's a husk."_

Victor pauses and sniffles, wiping away a tear that had somehow escaped.

_"His jumps are well rehearsed but something is off. The spread eagle isn't wide enough to give him enough momentum into the next jump. He's too close to the wall._

_His head cracks against the wall, and once again against the ice. There's blood, too much blood. Everything is red and stained._

_"Victor Nikiforov is down."_

_"It's over for him."_

_Victor's career has ended at the pinnacle of success. No one should go down before they're ready._

_I will ensure he does not go down until he's ready."_

Victor pockets the note and tries to swallow around the massive lump in his throat.

He'd let his own insecurities and internal doubts influence his already hazy mind, and he'd lashed out at Yuuri.

Yuuri, who had flown to surprise him in Barcelona.

Victor bit back his urge to scream and began trudging down the street, toward his hotel and away from his suffocating shame.


	14. Reeling and Reaching

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I said, nobody wants to watch this train wreck you've got going on."

Yuuri groggily peeled his sticky cheeks from his pillow and swiped around for his glasses. Once found, he glanced at the alarm clock that sat on the bedside table to his right. It was nearly three in the morning.

He shuffled to the bathroom and flipped the light on. He stared a moment at his red, swollen eyes and the tear stains that had become like adhesive.

He'd fallen asleep crying.

It wasn't the first time he'd ever done so, not by a long shot. But the reason was different.

Victor had never before raised his voice in such a way, not toward Yuuri. And it _hurt._

Yuuri sniffled and splashed water on his face. It was all his fault. He should have just been honest from the beginning.

_"Hi Victor. My name is Yuuri Katsuki and I'm a dime a dozen figure skater from Japan. Or, well, I used to be."_

He scoffed at the idea as he towel dried his forehead.

_"I could understand why you'd want to, considering the way yours ended."_

Yuuri could feel bile rising up and quickly collapsed to the cold floor, face buried in the toilet as he released any dinner he may or may not have had (he couldn't remember). Tears stung his eyes once more.

"God, what did I do to deserve this." He whimpered as he buried his burning face in the towel.

Then he laughed.

Yuuri realized that he'd fallen asleep -accidently, but unconscious nonetheless- and hadn't dreamt.

He was living the nightmare.

_______________________________

 

"Vitya! Break. _Now."_ Yakov glared at him more intensely than before, and Victor stared at him coldly as he swiped the sweat dripping from his bangs.

"I just took one." Victor argued.

Yakov shook his head. "That was three hours ago, and you haven't had any water since either." Yakov pointed at him. "I want you off the ice and out of skates now, before you hurt yourself."

"Yakov, honestly-"

_"Now!"_

Victor noticed the way Mila and Georgi watched on, concern written into their features, so he skated off before the confrontation escalated.

He sat down on the bench and prepared for his verbal beating, but Yakov had already moved on to correcting Georgi.

"What's eating you?" Yurio didn't even look at him as he asked, only stared straight ahead seemingly disinterested.

"Nothing." he practically spat.

Yuri's eyes slid over to him, glinting like a feral cat. "Really? Because all you've been doing is throwing yourself into those jumps with way too much force. I'm surprised you haven't broken anything."

_"Be safe."_

"Nobody wants to watch, y'know."

Victor's head snapped up. "What did you just say?"

"I said, nobody wants to watch this train wreck you've got going on." Yurio sneered. "The magical and beautiful Victor has fallen."

Victor stared at the teen in disbelief and balled his fist. He'd never, ever been one for violence but this was-

"It's Yuuri right? What we all talked about last night?"

Victor recoiled.

"Am I about to get advice from a teenager?" he laughed half-heartedly.

"I've met him, y'know. A couple years ago at a qualifier for the junior division." Yurio exhaled as he sat back. "He destroyed us all. But he was never mean about it."

"He's never really had a mean streak." Victor deflated.

"What's really funny is afterwards, JJ actually asked the pig-Yuuri- to help him land his triple axle." he barked a laugh then. "And the pig _did_ it! Can you believe that? He was helping his competition."

"JJ asked for help from Yuuri? They've met?" Victor leaned forward anxiously.

"Yeah." Yurio swiped his hair from his face and look at Victor. "Y'know, that's probably why he said those things about Yuuri. He was always terrified of his skill."

Victor blinked.

"Why did you even take what he said seriously anyway? At this point, you've met and spoken to him on a much more personal level than any of us have, except for maybe Phichit. But shouldn’t you be basing your opinion of him off of your experiences and not those of a wannabe superstar?" Yurio shrugged.

"You sound much older than your height leads others to believe." Victor smiled, and Yurio growled.

"Whatever. I was just trying to make you look less pitiful. The Victor everyone came out to see vanished. Find him." Yurio waved angrily as he stomped off.

Victor stared down at the lines in his hands, without really seeing.

He'd always been one to forego thinking and just act on feelings alone, but Yuuri had him second guessing every move he made. He didn’t want to mess up.

But he had.

And it was _terrifying._

Losing the only source of fulfilment in his life would be just his luck.

Victor exhaled slowly and removed his cell phone from his duffel bag. He flicked through a couple of texts from Chris and ignored his social media notifications. Slowly he tapped on Yuuri's contact and held his phone shakily up to his ear. 

"Hi,"

He exhaled in relief. "Yuuri, hi-"

"You've reached my voicemail. Leave a message and I promise I'll get back to you. Bye!"

Victor paled. Of course Yuuri would be ignoring him. He had every right to. Thinking back to the things he said the night before, Victor cringed himself.

"Yuuri, it's me. Uh, Victor." he swallowed. "I just wanted to talk to you about last night. Could you meet me somewhere?"

He paused. Victor had always been good with words, why were they failing him now?

"Yuuri, I messed up last night. Royally. I want to make it up to you, okay?" Victor could feel tears stinging the corners of his eyes and he willed them not to fall. "I just, _please._ Yuuri. Wait for me."

He hung up and tossed his phone into his bag, out of sight. Exhaustion quickly caught up to him and the realization of just how far he'd pushed his body set in. 

Victor packed up and waved apologetically at Yakov, who nodded sternly in return. He pulled his jacket closely around him as he opened his umbrella and walked out into the downpour.

For now, he'll rest.

He'll win.

And he'll earn Yuuri's forgiveness.

(…not necessarily in that order.)

 

____________________________________________

Yuuri pulled his scarf securely around his neck and mouth and ducked his head shyly, hoping no one would notice his reddened eyes or try to engage him in conversation. 

The wordless chatter that permeated the air nauseated him and his head whirled anxiously, but he was _home._

It'd been so long.

The nostalgia closed his throat, yet warmed his soul. He hadn't realized how much he missed the hum of excitement that vibrated off of everyone. He knew exactly how to navigate the crowd and which ways to go to avoid so many of them. He felt better.

But he still didn’t feel right.

What if the argument he'd had with Victor was the one thing that actually facilitated his fall from the podium? What if Yuuri's intrusion is what set him down this path? 

He bit his lip anxiously and winced. The inside of it was practically raw from two days of constant gnawing.

He turned down a corridor with much less people and exhaled. He hadn’t realized how stiff he'd set his spine. Suddenly, a fierce grip on his shoulder was turning him around and pulling him into a tight hug-

"Yuuri!"

He blinked and then immediately returned the hug. "Phichit, you scared me."

He stepped out of the hug and pulled his scarf down to give Phichit a small smile. "Shouldn’t you be preparing for your short program right now?"

Phichit waved him off. "I've got time, Yuuri. But it's so nice to see you! You know, a call once or twice a month isn't enough to sustain me." 

Yuuri laughed. "I'm sorry, Phichit. I'll get better."

"You look better." He looked him up and down before placing a hand on his hip. "Well, not right now. But in general."

"You're much more observant than anyone gives you credit for." Yuuri mumbled as he cast his eyes downward.

"I just know you. And why didn’t you ever mention Victor in your calls, hm? Imagine my surprise when he mentions some cutie named 'Yuuri' that also happens to be his wallpaper on his phone. I nearly died- Yuuri?"

Phichit must have noticed how he'd paled. 

"Did something happen?" he leaned in close. 

"I-I don't-it's just-I-" Yuuri couldn’t catch his breath and everything was starting to become hazy. He'd thought he'd have more time to mentally prepare himself before he'd heard Victor's name again. 

"Yuuri-"

"I-it's my fault. I n-never really explain anything so of course he'd think-"

"Yuuri, look at me."

He did, after a moment.

"Listen, just focus on breathing for a moment, okay? See how controlled mine is? Just focus on matching mine." Phichit rubbed small circles into his back and Yuuri realized just how much he'd missed his presence in his life.

"Sorry. You have a performance to focus on." Yuuri exhaled and smiled as thanks.

"No performance trumps my duty to my best friend." Phichit hugged him reassuringly. "I do have to go now, but let's meet up later tonight for dinner! My treat. Like a late slash early birthday gift. I'll text you where later."

"I actually can't find my phone." he kneaded his temple. "The past two days have been a blur."

Phichit nodded suspiciously. "Yeah, we'll talk about that. Let's meet at eight at that small bar we drank at a couple years ago. Do you remember where?" 

Yuuri laughed. "I remember how to get there. I don’t remember what happened when we left."

"Good. I'll see you tonight!"

"Wait, Phichit. Can you do me a favor?" Yuuri fished in his pocket for a moment. "Can you give Victor something for me?"

He nodded as Yuuri placed a polaroid picture into Phichit's open palm. "Thanks Phichit. And good luck."

With a wave and a grin, Phichit whirled off, and the warmth Yuuri had been immersed in previously quickly subsided.

After the GPF, Yuuri would never see Victor again.

He wished, for once, that he could see his own future.

_______________________________________

Victor turned sharply as a furious finger tap tap tapped at his shoulder furiously. He removed his headphones and stared in confusion at the Thai skater.

"Can I help you?" he asked politely. The man's eyes flashed dangerously.

"I don’t know what happened between you and Yuuri," he began in a low voice, "but you need to fix it."

Victor blanched. "You spoke to him?"

"Briefly. And it was going well until I said your name and he seized up. What'd you do to him?" Victor took a step back as Phichit crossed his arms impatiently.

"I-I-"

"Did you do something to him that he didn’t want?"

"What? No! I would never even touch another skate if that's what Yuuri wanted." Victor stated matter-of-factly. 

After a moment, Phichit seemed to relax. "Does it have to do with… _that?" ___

__"That?"_ _

__Phichit glanced around before leaning in close. "The dreams?"_ _

__Victor's eyes widened, but he nodded._ _

__Phichit sighed._ _

__"I just thought that, because he wouldn’t tell me exactly what happened in that maybe it didn’t exist-"_ _

__"In other words, you listened to JJ."_ _

__Victor's mouth set in a grim line. "More like I listened to my own insecurities."_ _

__Phichit shrugged. "I don't think this will end everything. You guys just need to talk. And if you know about that, then I know that Yuuri trusts you."_ _

__Victor huffed. "I've been trying to call Yuuri, but he won't answer me."_ _

__"Oh. Yuuri lost his phone. He just told me a minute ago."_ _

__He sighed in relief. Again, Yuuri hadn’t been ignoring him, he was just unable to answer._ _

__"Look, there's this bar I was going to meet him at tonight around eight. I can get you the address, and you can go in my place. Work this fiasco out."_ _

__"Really? But that's your plan with him. I won’t take that from you, especially since you haven't seen each other in forever."_ _

__He waved him off. "I can meet Yuuri for dinner tomorrow."_ _

__Victor shook his hand thankfully. "You're a wonderful friend."_ _

__Phichit shrugged. "What can I say, Yuuri brings out the best in people."_ _

__Victor nodded in agreement, before sighing. "What if he doesn’t want to see me? I messed up worse than Chris at last years banquet."_ _

__"Here." he reached into his pocket and handed Victor a small picture. "Proof that Yuuri is incapable of hating you."_ _

__Phichit patted his back reassuringly as he walked away to begin stretching and Victor stood rooted to the spot. He was afraid to look at the picture. Afraid of what message Yuuri might be trying to convey._ _

__He laughed at himself. Yuuri gave him more butterflies than the short program he was about to perform in less than twenty minutes._ _

__After taking a calming breath, he flipped over the picture and whimpered._ _

__Yuuri sat laughing with a mess of sunflowers in his hands and Makkachin slobbering happily in his lap, chewing on one of the flowers as well._ _

__Yuuri had definitely won their game of Snapshot._ _

__Victor gingerly tucked the photo away in his duffel before adjusting the sunflower pin tucked under his lapel._ _

__"Victor Nikiforov to the line!"_ _

__He nodded to himself, suddenly determined. Everyone was saying the Victor they were used to was gone._ _

__And they were right._ _

__He was different, but different meant content. Different meant his days were no longer lonely and different meant he'd had someone to confide in._ _

__Victor couldn’t let his folly ruin what he'd stumbled upon (literally)._ _

__If given the chance, dear _god_ let there be a chance, he'd tell Yuuri every day._ _

__"I love you, Yuuri Katsuki. More than the moon loved the stars." he whispered to himself as he removed his skate guards, gently placed a kiss to his sunflower pin, and stepped out onto the ice._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're getting somewhat close to the end! Thanks for the read, my friends.


	15. Communication Errors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I didn’t tell you because I relive that moment everyday of my life."
> 
> Their first (possibly last?) _real_ attempt at communication.

Victor's hands shook like fragile leaves in a deafening gale as he fiddled with his coat buttons. He ran his hand through his hair and checked the address Phichit had texted him once more. He looked up at the small pub which was dimly lit and had sultry music spilling from the open oak doors onto the glistening street.

Yuuri was in there. Of course, Phichit had told him he'd be.

But he could feel it too.

Victor exhaled. Should he have bought some flowers? Maybe a box of chocolates? Yuuri did like sweets-

"Hey, buddy. You goin' in or what?" A burly bouncer sneered at him from the door, and he smiled brightly right back.

"Of course. Excuse me." Victor shuffled past him and scanned the patrons that sat at tables, leaned against pool tables, walked to and fro and-

There.

Yuuri was right _there._

He was perched on a tall chair tucked in the corner of the bar, facing away from all of the noise. Victor found himself drawn in by his presence unknowingly, and his feet moved on their own accord.

He cleared his throat as he approached Yuuri's slouched figure. Victor slid carefully into the chair across from him and took a deep, calming breath. "Yuuri-"

Yuuri's eyes flick up from the glass in his hand, but they hardly seem focused. The bags under his eyes are dark and foreboding and his glasses were splayed on the table. His feathersoft hair was tangled and dull and his skin almost translucent.

But _god,_ was he still ethereal.

"Oh, Victorrrrr-" Yuuri actually pinned a lop-sided grin on him as he swallowed what was left of his drink. "What are you doing here?"

"Um, Phichit told me you'd be here so-"

"Oooooh, Phichit. I'll have to have a word with him." Yuuri's brows knitted together for a moment before he dissolved into giggles.

"Please don't be angry with him. I had to talk to you."

Yuuri froze and frowned. "But I don't want to talk to you."

Victor blanched. 

He leaned precariously over the table and gazed up at him through half-lidded eyes. "That's your problem, Nikiforov. You think everyone wants to do what you want them to. But it's not true, and it's not nice."

Victor couldn’t really feel his fingers anymore (when had he clenched them so tightly?) and his mouth had never been so dry. 

"Yuuri, I know what I said the other day was cruel-" he paused as a busty waitress flitted by and replaced Yuuri's empty glass with another, full to the brim. 

"It was more than that." Yuuri hiccupped and took a long swig. He laughed bitterly. "I felt so betrayed."

Victor sat board straight as he listened attentively. That had always been his problem. He'd been told numerous times by numerous people that he just needed to _listen_ to others. He'd always just watched others and thought that sufficient. 

It only took the loss of the most important person to him to finally convince him he was wrong.

He was wrong.

He'd never thought that in his life. 

And he was _angry_ at himself for it. Angry at himself for hurting Yuuri. Hurt that Yuuri hadn't felt comfortable enough to confide his past. Utterly terrified that Yuuri may just disappear. 

His eyes burned. He hadn't realized he'd been swallowing such emotions for so long. And Yuuri had probably been doing the same.

Yuuri had finished off his drink during his reverie, and he now fiddled with the strings on his sweater. His face was flushed and his chestnut eyes glinted feverishly.

"Wanna know why I didn’t tell you?" Yuuri mumbled without meeting his gaze.

"Only if you want me to know." Victor responded softly, which must have surprised Yuuri because his eyes shot up to meet his, finally.

After a moment, Yuuri smiled bitterly. "I didn’t tell you because I relive that moment everyday of my life. The sight of my femur protruding from my leg is burnt into the back of my eyelids and I see it every time I blink. The pain in my leg is constant and unwavering. And yet," he sniffled, and Victor could see the tears threatening to spill, like a dam ready to break. "The pain in my leg dulls in comparison to the sting your words left the other night. I didn't tell you about my 'past' because it is still very much part of my present."

Victor wondered, vaguely, when he had stopped breathing but he attributed the burning in his chest to the knife of Yuuri's words instead.

"Victor," Yuuri's voice was watery.

Victor stood and reached for Yuuri's jacket on the back of his chair. 

"Come on." Victor nudged and helped him shrug on his jacket. He haphazardly threw a wad of cash on the table-he wasn't quite sure how much Yuuri had drank, but knew he was no lightweight- and steered him by the elbow into the chilled air.

"Where are we going?" Yuuri choked as he slowed his pace.

"I wasn't going to let you cry in there in front of all of those people." Victor whispered as he removed the scarf from his own neck and wound it around Yuuri's neck and mouth.

They began walking without any sense of direction or destination. Victor purposefully left a small space between them. The last thing he knew Yuuri would want right now is the person who hurt him to touch him recklessly.

"Yuuri," he spoke slowly. "Will you lend me an ear for a bit?"

Victor waited for Yuuri to nod once, stiffly.

He swallowed thickly once more before letting it all go: his ego, his pride, his towering walls.

"I want to apologize, from the depths of my cold Russian heart for what I said before. It was unwarranted and cruel, and I will spend every waking moment apologizing for it for as long as you'll let me walk beside you, just like this." He paused. "I'm not very good at this, truthfully. I've never had to be. Though, that's no excuse."

Victor laughed halfheartedly and glanced down at Yuuri, who's downcast eyes were boring holes in the pavement as they walked.

"I could talk to anybody, everybody, about anything. But never about things that mattered. Until I met you. The day I bumped into you was like opening my eyes for the first time. More accurately, like closing them. I could finally rest. I didn't have to be 'on' all the time. I didn’t have to look good all the time or smile constantly or have my hair looking pristine. I could just be Victor, lounging on the couch watching cooking shows or grocery shopping or-"

"I get it." Yuuri sniffed, and Victor could tell he was crying. But he smiled anyway.

"You don’t get it, though." Victor stuck his hands in his pockets to hide their shaking. It was all or nothing. He either bared his soul now or never again. "I've always wondered what I would do after skating. I threw myself into it more than ever this season because I didn’t have an answer, and it was scary. But after meeting you, I feel like I have something else to belong to besides the ice. And I-" Victor stopped walking and turned toward Yuuri, pinning his glacier eyes on his earthen orbs. "I hope I haven't sunk that ship."

Yuuri stared up at him, searching his face for a moment before groaning and burying his head in his shoulder. Victor resisted the urge to entwine his fingers in his dark locks.

"I'd like to say it has," Victor could feel his stomach drop violently. "But that would make me a liar." Yuuri grumbled into his jacket, his warm breath seeping through and scalding his skin.

Yuuri stepped up onto his tiptoes and placed a chaste kiss to the corner of Victor's mouth before backing away. "But you deserve so much more than me."

Victor blinked. No way this was happening.

Yuuri gestured at himself. "I mean, look at me! I'm a mess. And you're _you."_ he paused. "I can't take you from the world."

Victor stood, mouth agape as Yuuri began stepping in the opposite direction, tears evidently staining his scarf. "You did so good today. I was so happy to watch you in person again."

"Yuuri, wait, _please-"_

"But tomorrow is that last day. Please, please, Victor. Be safe. Please." Yuuri's voice was raw and bleeding, much like Victor's soul at this point.

He turned a corner and disappeared out of sight, and out of Victor's life.

_______________________________________

Yuuri ripped the scarf from his neck and threw it across the room angrily. He jerked his jacket off and collapsed onto the floor of his hotel room in a mess of tears and dry heaves. 

He didn’t hate many things in life, but he hated his innate ability to single-handedly destroy every good thing in his life.

Victor was golden and unachievable from the start, and he had disillusioned himself to think he was even worthy. 

He noticed the emerald scarf in his peripheral, abandoned in the corner of the room. He crawled over to it and pulled it to his nose, inhaling Victor's lingering scent.

Yuuri wondered if Victor hated him now. Part of him hoped he did.

But another part hoped that maybe, Victor was just as torn and lost without him as he was. 

______________________________________

"Chris," Victor whimpered as he slumped into his friend's awaiting arms.

"I don’t know what's happened, but I know it has to do with that Yuuri of yours, hm?" Chris gently pushed him away and motioned for him to sit.

Hot tears streaked down his cheeks and for the first time they were welcome. It'd been so long since he'd cried so forcefully and exhaustedly. It was a refreshing river quenching the thirst of his barren soul.

"I said some cruel things, Chris, and I understand his anger with me. But what I don't understand-" he choked, and buried his head in his hands.

"Why he left?" Chris finished for him softly as he offered him a glass of water, which went ignored.

"He said I deserved better. But there's no one out there that's better than Yuuri. Yuuri is my _home._ Yuuri is the love of my life." he whispered.

"Did you tell him so?"

Victor shook his head. "Usually I'm so good with words, Chris. But whenever Yuuri's around I feel myself at a loss for them. It's like my mind short circuits." he laughed bitterly.

Chris pointed at him sternly. "You two really need to work on your communication skills."

He sighed then and forcefully placed the glass of water in his hand. "Drink. And listen while I talk."

Victor nodded, seemingly childlike, and Chris couldn’t help but give him a sympathetic smile.

"If he said that you deserved better, then there's your ultimate proof that he had no ulterior motive beforehand. If he had wanted to distract you, he wouldn't have reacted the way he did. He'd never thought of ruining your career. So you can throw that out the window."

"I know that…now."

Chris chuckled. "Secondly, I've never seen you give up on anything so easily. It's disappointing to see." 

Victor whipped his head up and blinked. "I don’t want to give up on Yuuri. I just don’t want to bother him with my advances if he really wants to go. I just want to abide by his wants. I would delve into the deepest parts of the ocean if he wanted a starfish, to be completely honest-"

Chris was cackling, and Victor's brows furrowed. 

"What you need is to show him that."

"I can't! He has me on this- this pedestal! I don't want to be on that pedestal. I want to be on the couch, in my pajamas, with his head in my lap and hot chocolate in my hand."

"So what should you do when the one person you want most, wants the world to have you instead?" Chris mused.

The puzzle pieces in Victor's mind finally fit together, and he grinned. "Show the world that I want just one person."

Chris nodded. "I'm glad you're still in there somewhere."

Victor winced. The world was a connection he'd been actively trying to sever for the past few years, and letting them into such a personal part of himself was downright intimidating. 

Anything for Yuuri.

"Could I stay here tonight? I know, it's the night before Finals but I really don't want to be alone right now."

Chris waved him off. "Of course. Friends before Finals."

Later on, long after Chris had begun snoring softly next to him, Victor finally turned his phone back on and opened his previous conversations with Yuuri. Once again, what he once considered traitorous tears coated his cheeks warmly. It felt as if Yuuri was there, within reach and without fail.

Hopefully, he would be soon.


	16. Final Wishes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri stood without realizing it, hand shaking as it covered his mouth and his lungs ceased working.
> 
> "He's too close to the wall." Yuuri whispered to himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to apologize wholeheartedly for the delay. My life has been absolute turmoil for the past few weeks, but I'm back!

Yuuri couldn’t seem to control his shaking hands as he ripped pieces from the ham sandwich that sat almost untouched on the plate in front of him. Every few minutes, when his thoughts would return to the present, he'd plop a piece into his mouth.

He kept his eyes glued to the table in front of him, trying to ignore the people bustling between the stands in the arena. He knew if he'd look up, he'd see Victor's face plastered everywhere, and he just couldn’t face the cold image whose smile didn’t reach his eyes.

It was despairingly funny how different the real Victor was from the media's portrayal, but he was grateful that he was one of the only ones to get to see that side.

Too bad he'd never see him again.

Yuuri stood and tossed his food in the garbage, his already diminished appetite now completely gone. His conversation with Victor the previous evening had left him even more frigid inside and the lingering warmth of that last kiss had long faded from his lips.

He had always known that Victor was much more golden and celestial in his entirety than Yuuri could ever hope to be.

He didn’t want to taint Victor's purity anymore than he, or the world, already had.

Yuuri trudged toward his seat, his feet like heavy stones. He descended carefully down the stairs and blinked as he exited the tunnel into the arena. The blinding lights gleamed off of the clean, mirror-like ice and he was sure that if he leaned over the barricade, he'd surely see his own melancholic face looking back at him.

Now he regretted purchasing seats so close to the rink, just a few rows up from the ice. It had cost him a pretty penny, but he had wanted to see Victor as close up as possible and in all his glory at what could very well be his last Finals performance. 

Yuuri shuddered. Victor had promised he'd be safe, that he wouldn’t push himself over the edge. That didn’t stop Yuuri's nerves from kicking into overdrive though, so he plopped down into his seat before his dizziness caught up to him.

"He'll be fine. He'll do fine." Yuuri whispered to himself as the arena started filling with more and more spectators.

Music began to blare as images of the finalists began flashing across the giant monitors spaced throughout. Victor was in first followed by JJ, who was closely tailed by Chris. Otabek followed in fourth with Phichit in fifth and Yuri in sixth.

The lineup was phenomenal, Yuuri thought, and he wondered what it would be like to compete against them.

The announcers roared to life as they began their introduction of Yuri and the recap of his short program. Yuuri listened through the fog in his mind, and hoped that somewhere, Victor's mind was exponentially more clear than his.

____________________________________

"You don't think this plan is a little too grand?" Chris's arms were folded in front of him and an amused expression donned his features. But behind the façade, Victor could see his concern. "You know he's a bit…flighty."

Victor nodded. "I know. But if this will shock him, and show him that this pedestal he has me on is nonexistent then," he shrugged. "Tell me, what do I have to lose at this point?" Victor gave him a small, sad smile.

"Giacometti and Leroy to the line!" 

Victor stood and hugged his best friend. "Good luck."

Chris winked and blew him a kiss. "See you on the other side."

Victor nodded as Chris disappeared from the locker room and he lapsed back into his stretching routine. He had spent the whole morning on the going over the spread eagle into the offending leap, the one that had terrified Yuuri for months. Victor was determined to lay Yuuri's fear to rest.

Victor straightened up as Yakov watched him curiously. After a moment of staring, Yakov cleared his throat. "You're different this time."

Victor removed his jacket and tossed it in his duffel. "Is that bad?"

Yakov shook his head. "You know, that Katsuki used to have that same expression on his face right before he used to perform, too. He's rubbed off on you."

His head snapped over to Yakov. "You know Yuuri?"

Yakov smiled. "I knew of him. I was actually scouting him a few years back. His coach from Detroit had sent me a video of one of his early performances. He had wanted me to take a look. He wasn't sure he could get the kid where he wanted to be professionally."

Victor listened attentively. 

Yakov turned toward him finally. "The night of his final performance, the one that ended his career, something was off. That determined look was gone and replaced with exhaustion and his mind was elsewhere. If you are feeling that way now, Vitya, I want you to tell me. If you are feeling anything like he was, I will not let you go out there right now and hurt yourself." 

Victor could have sworn he'd imagined the way Yakov's voice shook at the end, but he smiled anyway. 

"Nikiforov to the line!"

Victor patted him on the shoulder. "I'm fine. I can do this."

He grunted. "And where is this sudden resolve coming from?"

He began walking down the tunnel with Yakov at his side. Once he reached the ice he removed his skate guards and patted the golden pin that rested under his lapel.

"I'm not doing this for myself anymore."

He pushed off the wall.

___________________________

Yuuri's breath caught in his throat as Victor glided onto the ice with arms widespread and a peaceful expression. Yuuri leaned forward anxiously as he dug his fingernails into his palms. 

This was it.

Yuuri wished now more than ever that his dreams weren't actually prophetic and that everything was just a figment of his cruel imagination.

The tumultuous harmonies of Victor's free program began to lull through the arena and the crowd erupted into cheer at Victor's first toe loop, landed magnificently and with a flourish. 

Something scalding and acidic burned Yuuri's throat and he fought it down as Victor swooped low into a sit spin.

The roar of the crowd energized Victor as he swept across the ice, gaining momentum into his spread eagle.

Yuuri stood without realizing it, hand shaking as it covered his mouth and his lungs ceased working.

"He's too close to the wall." Yuuri whispered to himself. "No. No, _no._ Please. _Please."_

Victor exhaled as the image of Yuuri cuddled up next to Makkachin flashed through his mind. This was for him.

He launched himself into the salchow and the crowd froze with bated breath.

Yuuri blinked, and it was over.

Victor had landed his jump.

Yuuri's nightmare hadn't come true.

White-hot tears spilled down Yuuri's cheeks as Victor finished in his signature pose with his head bowed and hands clenched in sorrow at his chest. 

As the crowd sat in awed silence, Yuuri couldn't withstand the hurricane that was exploding within his chest any longer. 

"Victor!" a raw, bleeding voice ripped through the silence right before the crowd exploded into applause. 

Victor's head snapped up a moment too late to see where he was, but he knew whom the voice belonged to. His azure eyes scanned the arena rapidly as he searched for the disheveled black hair that belonged to the most important person in his life, but the crowd was too dense.

Victor could feel the tears welling up and tried to blink through them as fans began throwing flowers and stuffed animals into the rink lovingly. It wasn’t the first time he'd cried on the ice, but the reasoning was entirely different.

He began to exit the rink, having bared his soul and left it there, when he noticed one lone flower, bright and cheery in contrast with the bouquets of roses strewn across the ice. Quickly he skated over to it, plucked it from the frozen ground and held it to his chest.

He kept the sunflower there, tucked nicely against him as the judges gave him his score.

Yuuri collapsed against the wall in the bathroom as the dull roars of the crowd still permeated the air, and he wailed. He buried his face in his hands as sobs wracked his body and shook his soul.

He was relieved. The nightmare was over.

But so was the dream.

Once he set foot outside the arena, he would never again see Victor.

And that fact hurt a lot more than his broken leg ever did.

__________________________________

Victor smiled politely as the gold medal was placed around his neck and he obligingly smiled for all the photos thereafter, but he couldn’t contain the nerves that boiled under his skin. 

His plan was about to be executed and he couldn’t help but second guess himself. Maybe he'd been too rash after all.

He felt a warm hand rest on his shoulder and he turned his head to see Chris wink at him, his silver medal reflecting the rink lights. Victor smiled back and took a calming breath as the announcer made his way in front of him.

"Victor, any words about your newest gold medal?"

Victor took the microphone from him and nodded. "I have something to say, but it's not about this particular victory." 

The audience became hushed, but Victor knew Yuuri was watching, somewhere.

"I have been victorious in another aspect of my life recently. I've fallen hopelessly and irreversibly in love with the most amazing person." 

The crowd collectively gasped and he was thankful for Chris' grounding hand on his shoulder.

_"Show the world I want just one person."_

"And while I appreciate all of the support I have received from all of you," he gestured fondly, "I must say that this person has complete control over my poor heart. And when reporters asked where I had been, it took all of my self control not to scream that I was in the happiest place I've been in my life. By his side."

Victor laughed then, the lone sound reverberating through the arena as the audience sat in shocked silence. "But I, in my typical Victor Nikiforov way, have messed up exponentially, and what I'm really asking for is another chance." Tears stung his eyes, but he pushed on. "If there's any chance in this universe or the next that I may be able to stay by your side, please, meet me at that ice cream stand in one week." 

"Which stand?" a random woman called from the audience.

He laughed softly. "He'll know." 

Victor nodded to the announcer. "Thank you all for your time." He handed the microphone back as the crowd once again stood and cheered.

Immediately, in lieu of confetti, large yellow petals began to fall from above and coat the arena. 

"For you, Мой подсолнечника."


	17. Inevitability

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You want nothing to do with me either, huh?" Victor smiled sadly.
> 
> "You are an idiot."

Victor's hands trembled visibly, so he began to pace back and forth to distract himself. Every once in awhile, he'd glance up at the elderly man who owned the tiny ice cream stand, who's amused expression was starting to grate on Victor's last strained nerve.

"Is something funny?" Victor asked coolly. 

The elderly man blinked and then barked out a jolly laugh. He rested an elbow on his cart and pinned the same expression on Victor again.

"You know, as soon as you did that little speech and asked that boy to meet you, I knew it would be this one." the old man's voice was deep and gravelly, but it held no patronizing tone. 

"If you knew, then why not tell the press? They would have paid you well." Victor inquired, and began wondering if maybe there were some reporters hiding nearby.

The old man just shook his head. "You know," the man squinted as his eyes swept the empty beach, "this beach possesses a certain charm. It's not anything impressive, but I still feel drawn here. Do you feel drawn here too, boy?"

Victor paused, taking in the pale gray sky who's horizon blended into the froth of the churning sea. After a moment, he turned to the man. "Why are you selling ice cream here in the dead of winter?"

The elderly man erupted into laughter suddenly, and Victor gave him a small smile in return.

"Don’t ask questions you already have the answer to." the man sobered. Victor's confused expression must have caught his attention because he sighed and smiled. "Isn't it obvious? This is a place of unity. The waves beat incessantly against the earth and yet, the earth does not shy away. I will not shy away from selling something I love just because the weather is cold. Are you going to shy away from something you _love_ because the weather turned rotten on you?" the man pinned a hard look on him before nodding at something behind Victor.

Victor turned just as Makkachin barked happily as he bounced up and down. Being tugged along behind his loyal companion was a pale mess, hair pointed in every direction and eyes framed with dark shadows. 

And Victor still thought him _astounding._

_"Yuuri,"_ he breathed. He had come, he had actually come! That had to mean he still had a chance to make it up to Yuuri, right?

"You didn’t have to go through that trouble, you know. I still had to return Makkachin to you." Yuuri mumbled as he stopped a few feet in front of Victor. 

Victor deflated immediately. Of course, Yuuri was done with him. That had been made apparent to him already. Inevitability was something Victor had never had to face and the frustration seemed to bubble up and catch in his throat.

"Victor? A-are you… _crying?"_ Yuuri's brows were knit with concern, and he had stepped forward slightly, his hand extended cautiously toward him.

Victor blinked. He was. Scalding, fat tears rolled down his cheeks and plopped onto his collar and he found himself not caring that the love of his life was watching his pathetic breakdown. He sniffled miserably, thinking to himself that he might as well rip the remnants of his heart from his chest and present them on a silver platter.

"I don't know what to do Yuuri. I've never been in this position before. The person that I absolutely do not want to live without can hardly look me in the eye, a-and I can't even blame him! I'm the opposite of King Midas," he laughed bitterly. "Everything I touch turns to ash and dust, carried away by turbulent winds of change."

Victor took a shaky breath as Makkachin whimpered and plopped down at Yuuri's feet.

"You want nothing to do with me either, huh?" Victor smiled sadly.

"You are an idiot."

Victor's eyes shot up, and he could finally see the restraint that Yuuri carried so well start to crumble.

He nodded. "Tell me everything, Yuuri. Every little thing about myself that has hurt or angered you. I need to hear it."

Yuuri dropped Makkachin's leash and took a menacing step toward him. "You are so _infuriating!_ You take too long in the shower and use up all the hot water; you wake up at ungodly hours and don’t even look a bit affected by it; you can eat as many sweets as you want without gaining a single pound; your optimistic views force me to embrace other possibilities, but the most infuriating thing that you have EVER done is assume that I would want anything less than to be able to be by your side every day of my life."

Victor stilled as the wind whipped his scarf, and he realized that the emerald scarf that whipped around Yuuri's neck belonged to him.

"Winds of change, huh." the elderly man whistled as he pushed his cart onward, eventually disappearing from sight.

_"Yuuri."_

"What you said that day _hurt."_

Victor shivered. "I know, Yuuri, I _know._ I'm so sorry, please-"

"Wait. L-let me finish."

Victor's mouth snapped shut and he nodded. 

"What you said hurt, but it made me realize that I need to work on communicating with you. I'm really-extremely- out of practice with it, and I'm not entirely sure it's fair of me to ask you to wait for me to be good at that kind of thing-"

"I will." 

"What?"

"I will wait."

"Victor-"

"Yuuri Katsuki, I'm so in love with you that if you were to ask me to wait until the oceans turned purple and the sun green, I'd agree in a heart beat."

Yuuri inhaled shakily, but the corners of his mouth tilted upwards anyway. "How can you say those kinds of things so easily?" he wiped a tear from his cheek. "I'm envious."

"We can practice." Victor offered quietly.

Yuuri's laughter lilted between them, bright and airy, and Victor took the opportunity to close the distance between them. He placed his palm on his cheek gingerly (he still wondered if Yuuri ever realized that he leans into it absentmindedly) and sighed.

"I'm so sorry, Мой подсолнечника. You make my mind short circuit whenever you're around and sometimes I'm at a loss for what I should do or say."

"Now that should be my line."

Victor shook his head. "You have absolutely no idea the affect you have on the people around you."

Yuuri's hands still trembled, and Victor took them in his own. 

"You know, when I thought that finals would be the last time I ever got to see you, I couldn’t breathe. You've become this-this oasis, this calming presence in my life and the thought of that, of _you,_ not being there anymore was-" Yuuri trailed off, shaking his head.

"I know exactly what you mean." Victor gulped. "Have…have I messed this up too much?"

"You've messed this up just the right amount."

Victor groaned. "Is that your idea of a joke, Katsuki?"

"Not sure what you mean, Nikiforov." Yuuri's stifled laughter was enough confirmation. 

Victor grinned fondly as he traced Yuuri's cheek with his thumb. Finally, Yuuri looked up to meet his eyes and Victor felt he could finally breathe again.

"Yuuri, can I kiss you?"

Yuuri searched his face for a moment before asking, "if that's what you want."

He chuckled. "What do you want?"

Yuuri paused, blinked, and blushed bright red. "I-I want to kiss you."

His arms laced around his neck and Victor pulled him closer until their bodies were flush.

"Victor,"

Victor kissed his forehead tenderly.

"I am also-"

He placed the softest of kisses on his left cheek.

"-hopelessly-"

Yuuri's right cheek is given the same treatment.

"In love with you."

Victor slowly presses his lips to Yuuri's delicate ones and thinks to himself how cliché it was they he was actually feeling weak in the knees.

He's still tracing Yuuri's cheek with his thumb and drinking in the warmth that he'd been desperately yearning for when giddy laughter finally bubbles up from his chest and bursts from his mouth and he can’t seem to control it and he realizes that he doesn’t even want to and Yuuri's tired eyes are watching him fondly and if this is what love is then he's more than content with having waited and-

"Victor?" 

Victor places both hands on either side of Yuuri's face and pulls him into another kiss, this one hastier and full of gratitude and adoration.

"I love you so much."

"Enough to carry me home?" Yuuri joked halfheartedly.

Victor kneeled in front of him. "Does your leg hurt?"

"I'm alright-" he pauses and shakes his head. "Communication, communication." he mumbles to himself, and Victor hides his smile. "To be honest, Makkachin and I have been walking around all day as a distraction, so my leg is kind of bothering me."

Victor prompts him to climb on, and he gently wraps his arms around Yuuri's legs as he hoists him up. Silently, they begin the trek back to Victor's. 

Minutes later, Yuuri relaxes against him completely. "I'm tired." 

Victor nodded. "Me too."

"Will you make me some hot chocolate?"

"Of course."

"And we can sleep?" he asks quietly.

"As long as you want."

Yuuri rested his head in the crook of his neck sleepily, and Victor didn’t swipe at the tears that spilled silently down his cheeks as Yuuri hummed "Stay Close to Me," absentmindedly as he carried him home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it! I hope you guys enjoyed it, and I appreciate your nice comments and just your overall presence. Thanks friends<3


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